#let me tell you that baby would be more protected than ANY world leader!

[queennerd81793]

AU where Stone is trans and him and Robotnik ended up having a drunken one night stand before the events of Sonic 3. Not too long after the Eclipse Cannon explosion, Stone, still devastated over losing the Doctor, finds out he's carrying a little Robotnik <3

Seriously, can someone PLEASE PLEASE make a comic or fic about this?? I can't be the only one who thought of it!

[eviesaurusrex]

ᴄʜᴏꜱᴇɴ ᴡɪꜱᴇʟʏ | ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ

Mobster!Bucky Barnes x Reader

summary: 5 incidents in which Bucky gets proven how lucky he is to have found you.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: MDNI, fluff, mobster typical themes, illusions to violence, more fluff, cursing, talks of marriage, starting a family etc., pregnancy, phantom pain, allusions to smutty time, slight dirty talk, my Google Translator skills for all things Russian, children, not perfetly proof-read

author’s note: Am I in my mobster era now? (Please don't try to strangle me when I butchered the Russian parts. I had only Google Translator as my trusty helper ;_; Dividers are made by @enchanthings-a and @strangergraphics!

Russian translations:

малышка (malyshka)—baby

милая (milaya)—darling

“Every day I wake up next to you, I pray to the gods and thank them for the love you give me. Every day I spend with you is more than I deserve. Every day I call myself lucky that you love me back, my dear. I love you more than anything in the world, more than the world, more than life itself. You are my everything. Thank you for making me the happiest man on this planet.”

“Should I stop telling you how good you feel around me? How good you take me? How perfect you look, all filled up with my cock and already pregnant with my baby?”

Привет, папочка (Privet, papochka)—Hello daddy

Привет, солнышко (Privet, solnyshko)—Hello sunshine

The first incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was when James Buchanan Barnes—fearsome crime lord, bratva leader, king of New York City’s underworld—found himself in the aftermath of a crossfire after a deal gone south. His doctor had just arrived to check out the gunshot wounds littering his arm and shoulder, and in his opinion, everyone made too much of a fuss about it.

He was fine. He made it out with barely any scratches.

“Nine gunshots, only one bullet I have to remove. This is a new record, Mr. Barnes.”

… a few scratches; he had to give him that.

On the other hand, his entire left arm had been reduced to nothing but a pile of scrap metal, so perhaps Bucky had been hit rather badly if he took that into account. He wouldn’t because he had to be okay, invincible even. The world he was born into was a cruel one that reprimanded one’s weakness with downfall and despair, and he had to uphold the legacy that had been bestowed upon him the moment his father took his last dying breath in the same car crash that had taken his arm. He had people to protect—his associates, partners, workers, everyone that he considered friends or even family.

Topped by only one person, one woman, who sat above them all on a throne he had created for her right next to his. Not beneath him, not a step below—right fucking next to him.

Speaking of which… The commotion outside their bedroom sounded a lot like the whirlwind he deemed to be the love of his existence, and cursing above his breath, his eyes moved a second from the slightly opened door toward the doctor holding the single bullet between a pair of forceps.

“Don’t you dare step in my way.”

Her voice rushed like opium through his veins, making the mobster forget about the burning pain of holes inside his body.

“I can’t let you in there. Not now. The doctor is with him, you don’t want to see that,” Steve’s voice echoed through the hallway, probably stacked with high-towering security men. Just as high-towering as the blond was, and still, his girl did not show fear. No, not her. Never her.

A scoff was heard, and the physician beside him chuckled under his breath as he started to clean the wounds meticulously. Even Bucky showed a rare hint of emotion around other people than her when a grin parted his lips for a moment. “You’re his second. He is his doctor. I am his girlfriend. Think again if you want to continue standing in my way, Steve. I’m not above using brute force to get to him.”

Hearing that from a woman stopping not even close to all their eye levels would be laughable with any other person, but her? Everyone knew she would move heaven and hell in order to get wherever he was. He had learned this the hard way and would never dare leave her behind again, not when she demanded to tag along.

She really is a wonder.

Bucky wasn’t sure if he had spoken those words out loud, his mind starting to struggle with the blood loss and pain seeping deeper than necessary into him.

Shuffling before the door made the brunet open his eyes again. “Fucking hell, woman…” The hardwood door opened, and he could see the woman ruling his world without even starting to grasp the extent of her power over him, turning toward his second in command. “I hope you don’t kiss your mother with that mouth, Rogers,” she spoke sweetly before she finally turned, her eyes immediately finding him on their shared bed.

Worry creased her forehead, brows deeply furrowed, eyes jumping from his shoulder to his injured arm, then right to the one missing. Without another heartbeat, she rushed through the grand but still cozy room, showcasing her taste because Bucky had let her redecorate this entire fucking house as soon as she had agreed to move in with him—after much persuasion on his part. He wouldn’t have given a fuck if she would’ve decided to paint every single wall a screaming yellow if it would’ve made her happy.

“Hey, милая.” His raspy voice from all the shouting broke a bit at the signature endearment for her, and he wished to reach a hand out to her, but the lack of his arm was jarringly apparent. So all he could do was watch her carefully settling down onto her side of the bed, scooting over the mattress, a warm, soft hand cupping his cheek while the pad of her thumb started to caress his cheekbone. “Hey, love,” she returned the greeting with a smile, worried gaze flicking to Dr. Strange. “How bad is it? And don’t you dare try to sugarcoat me like Sam bloody tried on our way here. I do possess eyes, you see that, right?”

Dr. Strange nodded while preparing the stitching material. “I have removed one bullet from his shoulder. Nine shots in total. I’ve cleaned them and will stitch them as soon as the anesthetic takes effect.” Bucky could see her nodding at the doctor’s explanation and tried to nuzzle closer into the palm of her hand. “Milaya?” She finally looked down on him. “I’m okay, ‘promise. They busted m’arm, though.”

His words turned slurred, slowly but steadily, and he focused on her soft smile that was always entirely reserved for him and baby kittens. He could live with that sort of competition.

“We will talk later, but I promise I’ll take a look at your arm, and in case there isn’t anything left to save, I’ll make you a new one, James.” She pressed a gentle, loving kiss to his sweat-covered forehead. “Now relax, my love. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Her voice echoed in his ears when the drugs finally kicked in, clinging to the sound of her.

Yes, he had been smart enough to ignore his stupid rule of not letting anyone get closer than necessary. She proved him right every damn time.

The second incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was on a regular day in December. Snow fell softly outside the grand brownstone they had chosen to spend the holidays at rather than the house outside the city. His girl had wanted to finally spend Christmas in the buzzing city again, and he had ordered their things packed and moved within a blink of an eye.

Now, everyone enjoyed their little piece of heaven surrounded by their families. Yelena and Natasha had returned to Russia for the holidays, Steve spent time with his own wife, while Sam had decided to go south to see his parents and check in with a few associates while he was already there.

Meanwhile, the feared bratva mobster, leader of the darkest pits of New York’s underworld, watched his girlfriend-soon-to-be-fiancée add a few more pieces they had picked up at Tiffany’s today to their Christmas tree, humming to the soft tunes of an old record wafting through the living room. His blue eyes, usually so menacing and threatening, rested with a loving expression on the woman he had sworn to protect with his life, one arm thrown over the back of the comfy couch he had spent a fortune on—but his queen fell in love with it at first sight and couldn’t find anything better suiting. Not that she had to. The shining black Centurion Card had been pulled out of the inside pocket of his black suit jacket the second Bucky had seen that look on her face.

He would buy her anything in this world, spoiling her rotten until she’d drown in pretty things.

“I think we need more lights,” she stated in a mumble, almost to herself, before turning toward him. “Don’t we? We need more lights, yes.” And so it was decided, and he smiled at her turning back when she started to roam through the red holiday box to find the last remaining string of colorful fairy lights. “No, wait.” Lifting a dark brow, the man watched her reach for the small package he had eyed since they’ve returned instead, all wrapped prettily and neatly.

Scooting across the soft carpet toward where he sat, his girl smiled up at him, holding the small present out to him before folding her hands over his muscular thigh, waiting patiently. “It’s not your Christmas present, but I saw it and… and I needed to do this. To have something for our tree.”

Their first real tree as a couple. The past three years, they had been too busy during the holiday season, barely being at home, not to mention the little time they would’ve had to go out, find a tree, and decorate it, so it would be appreciated as it deserved. This year, however, Bucky craved the comforts of their home, and he wanted to start collecting memories like this.

He bent over to her, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, hand cupping her cheek tenderly, the little gift almost vanishing in the vastness of his hands. “Thank you, моя милая.” How in all the hells had he become so lucky in finding this woman who now grinned up at him with unabashed happiness? “Open it! Open it already!” And he obliged, feeling giddy himself as she almost bounced on her knees, unwrapping the small box and opening the lid to reveal a perfectly crafted snowflake ornament, a picture of them together in Central Park during the worst snowstorm the city had witnessed in over a decade placed inside the clear crystal. Their smiling faces, almost hidden behind scarves and beanies, angled to one another, her lips pressing a snow-filled kiss to the corner of his smiling lips.

It was perfect.

She was perfect.

Gods be damned, but in that moment, when his eyes found hers again, he felt the overwhelming urge to drop down on his knees and ask for a lifetime together. But he wouldn’t. He had it all planned out, and he used to stick to his plans. He was patient beyond compare, but not when it involved this woman before him. So instead of caving to this sensation, Bucky carefully placed the crystal snowflake onto the coffee table in front of him and pulled his girl up into his lap in one smooth motion, wrapping her in his strong arms, fingers—both flesh and metal—tangling in soft strands of hair or gripping the soft black fabric of the hoodie she wore which once belonged to him.

“Каждый день я просыпаюсь рядом с тобой, молюсь богам и благодарю их за любовь, которую ты мне даришь. Каждый день, который я провожу с тобой, больше, чем я заслуживаю. Каждый день я называю себя счастливчиком, что ты любишь меня в ответ, моя дорогая. Я люблю тебя больше всего на свете, больше мира, больше самой жизни. Ты — мое все. Спасибо, что сделал меня самым счастливым человеком на этой планете, малышка,” Bucky rasped in Russian with his forehead pressed to hers and eyes intimately locked, watching the shy smile he loved so dearly spreading on her lips and making her eyes twinkle.

“I don’t know if you have insulted me just now, proclaimed your undying love for humble me, or started the dirty talk earlier than usual, but either way, I don’t mind.” Her fingers wrapped around his chin to pull his face closer to hers, lips touching when she added in a breathless whisper, “It sounded hot, so keep talking dirty to me, love.”

Giggling, his girl accepted the tender kisses of chapped lips to her cheeks, her nose, her forehead, her lips. He felt the uncomfortable pull on his skin again when Bucky smiled at her, his split lip still not entirely healed after a punch he couldn’t dodge in time. Under her care, it will have vanished until next week when the photographer planned to take a few pictures for their first Christmas postcards.

Bucky still struggled to grasp how his life had turned in that particular manner. He never thought he’d be one for domesticity and familiar bliss, but with her?

He was all in.

The third incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was when James Buchanan Barnes, invincible mob boss, returned home in the dead of night in a frantic temper, his entourage strolling behind him, accepting his orders with grave faces and solemn nods.

“Don’t let him out of your fucking sight. Track him as soon as he leaves his godforsaken home, track him inside his own walls, hell, track when he takes a piss. I don’t fucking care!” His booming voice echoed through the foyer, and with another deep growl, he handed his weapons to Sam; two remained in the holster, hugging his broad shoulders. He wouldn’t take them off, not until the threat was decimated under his foot. “We’ll do a 24/7 surveillance on him, boss. He won’t come near her,” Steve promised, knowing damn well what would happen to all of their heads if they couldn’t protect her.

Bucky bared his teeth in disgust. “You better not fuck this up, Steve.” This would be his first and only warning, and the blond knew that, so he nodded and retreated into his office, knowing damn well that sleep would be nothing but a pleasant memory for a while—he wouldn’t be alone, though. Everyone knew how their boss got when his queen was threatened by others. Those threats had already started to grow in numbers as soon as the underworld learned of their engagement, and outsiders trying everything to get in and on good graces with certain families smelled a quick victory.

How wrong they were in those foolish assumptions.

Sam watched his boss almost anxiously while he desperately tried to cool off, fists pressed against the pretty surface of a pretty sideboard she had most definitely chosen.

“I will kill him. I’ll kill them all if I have to.”

At Bucky’s deep rumble, Sam could only hum in agreement. He would be right at his back, killing all who wanted to harm anyone he cared for, especially those inside this building.

“I could reach out to our associates in Louisiana, get some more backup and gunpower. There’s this kid who’s a marvel with tech. Maybe he can come up with a discreet solution for the in-house surveillance,” Sam suggested, knowing damn well how excited Parker would be when he finally allowed him to tag along, currently bored out of his brilliant mind at college. Bucky looked up and over his shoulder, icy blue eyes resting on one of his best men—and friend. But the creaking above their heads let him pause in his answer, and both men stared up the stairs, knowing who eavesdropped at the railing.

Bucky sighed deeply. “We need to work on your stealth skills, малышка,” he spoke up and waited for her steps to pick up and for her to shuffle down the stairs. She did in a pair of cozy yoga pants, a large hoodie hanging on her form—the one he had worn before changing into his suit this morning—and fluffy socks with reindeer and candy canes printed all over them, her hair wrapped in a messy bun on the top of her head, strands framing her face. In her arms throned a king amongst pets, and white fur littered the soft fabric of his hoodie where she held Alpine close to her chest.

His heart ached at the sight of her in the best possible way.

Her eyes wide with worry—not for herself, but for him and all his men—jumped between Sam and himself as she reached the second to last step and waited there.

“I didn’t mean to, but… I heard voices and thought you’d come home, but then I heard everyone talking and it was kind of too late to go back to bed anyway, so I figured I could… learn a bit.” Bucky started softly shaking his head, his outgrowing hair tickling his cheeks. “You meant eavesdropping, малышка. That’s the word you’re looking for here,” he deadpanned, and one corner of his mouth slightly lifted at the sound of her quiet laugh, her fingers comfortingly petting the white fluff ball currently purring at the attention and headbutting her hand for more.

With another sigh, he stepped up to the stairs, raising his gaze to his all-ruling queen, and he felt the tension in his shoulders slightly disappear when her hand came up to his neck and rested there comfortingly, fingers playing with the soft strands of his dark hair. “I’ll be alright, James,” she whispered, and he wasn’t sure how she could say that with such certainty when not even he felt so sure. “We’ll be alright, I just know it. Nothing and no one will keep me from you, from becoming your wife and living a very happy life with the man I love more than anything in this world, giving him the cutest fur babies and children the world has ever seen.” Bucky sucked in a breath, and after gently putting down Alpine, he pulled his soon-to-be wife in a bone-crushing hug, wrapping her legs around his hips with ease. “We will live until we turn old and grey and can look back at all the memories we made along the way, annoying our children and grandkids with endless, embarrassing stories,” she continued to whisper against the soft, tattooed skin of his neck and yes, he could see all that and more, too.

It was easy with her to picture this picture-perfect life—and he would do anything to make it a reality. He wouldn’t stop at murder and anarchy, not when it came to her.

So when he slightly turned to Sam with his woman in his arms, ready to put her back to bed, he only needed to mouth the words, and it was done.

Do it.

The fourth incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was during one of those forsaken nights.

He woke with a startle and a groan escaping him involuntarily, the dark bedroom embracing him, a soft, warm body tucked into the expanse of his back, slow breathing fanning across his heated skin. His hand shot up with another groan leaving him, cupping the stump where once had been an arm, feeling the same agonizing pain he had felt in that car all those years ago, almost bleeding to death after a rivaling family had tried to kill them all off.

Unfortunately, he had survived—and the revenge had been brutal the moment he had recovered enough to go on a killing spree.

Trying to breathe through the crashing sensations, Bucky tried to move as quietly and carefully as possible, not wanting to wake the woman sleeping peacefully beside him because she needed all the rest she could humanely get. But the pain was blinding, the feeling of warm blood flowing down his skin so real, he could’ve sworn there was still an arm to lose, and his fucking legs were still tangled in the damn blanket!

With a frustrated huff, the mobster tried to just roll out of bed in a desperate attempt, not minding falling face-first to the floor, but the blanket didn’t budge, and suddenly, an arm snaked across his waist, and a warm hand rested on his muscular abdomen.

“D’not go…”

The sleepy mumble pierced through the agony, and usually, Bucky always obliged to his wife’s every demand, but not now. Not this time. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t crumble in front of her. She needed him to be strong and capable. He had to protect her and the little plum. He couldn’t show weakness, not even in the comforts of their own home. Word would get out, the pit of New York City would smell blood, they would come and kill her in front of his very eyes, make him watch when the life would vanish from her breathtaking eyes, taunting him, before they would end his life as well, releasing him into the bliss of afterlife where he would search for her, and—….

“Bucky? What’s wrong?”

Her voice, now sounding more awake and aware, startled and pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts, and he could feel the mattress dip and move when she sat up and scooted closer to him. “Hey…” A soothing hand started to rub over his back. “Talk to me, love. C’mon, handsome, I can only help when I know what’s bothering you to such an unholy hour.” Her teasing made him almost smile—almost. But the pain returned in full force, and his hand gripped his shoulder even tighter.

“Phantom pain. It’s nothing I can’t handle, malyshka. Go back to sleep, you need it,” he rumbled quietly, his legs finally escaping the trap that was their blanket, and the man sat up, feet hitting the floor. He attempted to get up in order to leave her to the quietness of their room, but his wife had nothing the like on her mind. She held him back and scooted off the bed. “Stay. I’ll be right back.” Blinking into the dim light of her bedside table, he reached for her and tried to get up. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Go back to—”

She shushed him gently and pressed a finger to his lips. “I said Stay. I mean it.” With that, his woman granted him a serious glance before she patted into the adjacent bathroom, one hand cradling her already quite prominent bump, and all Bucky could hear was rummaging sounds in their cabinets and a quiet mumbling.

“Your papa is a handful sometimes, little one. Prepare yourself because I need you in my corner, okay? Okay.”

Smiling through the irritating pain, the mobster waited for her to return and watched her closely when she finally left the bathroom and patted back to their bed, a bottle of lotion in her hand. “You think you need the mirror, love?” Bucky glanced at the full-length mirror in their walk-in closet shrouded in darkness and decided with a soft shake of his head. “Maybe later if it’s not getting any better,” he mumbled in defeat, accepting the loving kisses pressed to his right temple and lips. “Just let me know, yeah?” He nodded at her request, and blue eyes watched her like a hawk when she settled right next to him, on the side of his missing arm, a squirt of lotion already between her soft hands warming it up.

“I told you to wake me up if it’s happening again,” his wife scolded him quietly, her incredible hands massaging the hurting stump of his shoulder. At first, it hurt like hell, but the more she kneaded and caressed, the more bearable it got. “You need your rest, milaya,” he returned with a lingering glance down her form, eyes equally heavy with worry and love when they settled on the little bump he had grown to love so dearly, it almost hurt.

Bucky felt her eyes on him in return and opened his arm when she stopped what she was doing to climb into his inviting lap, straddling him comfortably. Taking his hand into hers, she pushed the warm skin of her husband under his shirt she wore to sleep and placed his palm right on top of the soft curve before continuing.

“Not more than you need it, too. You’re running the mob empire, not me.” Her voice reminded him softly, and he let his forehead fall onto her shoulder, eyes closed, thumb caressing the warm skin of her bump, hoping, praying, he would feel something, anything. But according to all the books he had read so far, it would take a few more weeks until he could feel the slight movements their child did inside his wife. “And you’re growing a whole fucking human,” Bucky returned and got shushed again. “Watch your language, Barnes. I don’t want their first word to be anything obscene.”

But she couldn’t fool him. He heard her smile in the scolding.

A comfortable silence settled between them, then, reminding Bucky yet again why he had felt so good around her the second she had walked into that room in the hospital, only raising a brow at the sight of six buffed men clad in black suits, armed with more guns than one human could possibly need, and him sitting in the middle of it all—disheveled, still hurting, ice cold. She had smiled, wearing those ridiculous blue scrubs, and he had spotted a splash of blood on her light grey sneakers when she had come closer, pointing it out in almost something resembling disgust. Still, she only had rolled her pretty eyes at the pitiful attempt of an insult.

She hadn’t given a single fuck about those intimidating men—including him—all towering multiple heads above her, tattooed, guns always visible, the rough Russian language floating through the room occasionally. And he had respected her for that, even though he didn’t bother to be nice at first. In hindsight, Bucky would’ve earned a beating from his mother if she had been still alive. She had raised him better than treating a beautiful, kind, intelligent, and compassionate woman like he had initially treated her. But after a while, Bucky had felt how she had snaked her way into his thoughts, catching himself repeatedly thinking about her over the course of his day, starting to anticipate the next appointment to get his prosthetic measured, built, and adjusted, always looking forward to seeing her face.

She hadn’t given a flying fuck either when he finally revealed who he was and what he did, only cocking her head to the side in question and asking him, “Will you or one of your guys kill me after our time is over?” And when he had shook his head, denying those thoughts, she had smiled brightly, before turning back to the prosthetic arm she had crafted for him. “Then we don’t have a problem. Everyone has to earn their money somehow, James.” That was also the first time anyone had called him by that name since his parents had died, and he had fallen for her right then and there, ready to kneel at her feet and surer as hell that he would make her his queen.

“Don’t count on that, malyshka. Everyone around here is using filthy language, and do I need to remind you of certain… situations where the little plum currently has to listen in? Or do you want me to stop? Мне перестать говорить тебе, как хорошо ты себя чувствуешь рядом со мной? Как хорошо ты меня принимаешь? Как идеально ты выглядишь, вся заполненная моим членом и уже беременная моим ребенком?” He felt the pain slowly but steadily subside under her knowing and well-versed hands, feeling them stop in their magic as the huskily whispered Russian words flowed effortlessly over his lips, feeling her squirm in his lap.

Leaning slightly back in order to have a better look at his face, his wife bit her lower lip, making now the feared bratva leader squirm underneath her, his hand protectively pressed into her lower back, not daring to let her fall off of him. “You are a very evil man, James Barnes,” she hummed with almost a purring edge to her voice, making him grin as cocky as possible. “You married the worst of the bunch, malyshka—and you like it. You can’t hide it, not from me, never from me. Not when I’m balls-deep it that deliciously tight…—” Her lips pressing against his made him moan deep in his throat and stop taking altogether. Forgotten was the pain of the past. It still bothered him, somewhere in the back of his mind, but her scent, her taste, the feeling of his wife against him made him forget about it.

The past was the past, and now, only the present and the future held importance to him.

Lifting her with one arm with ease, the mobster carefully moved her to the middle of their bed, hovering above her and watching her pretty face with a loving gaze. “You’re my everything,” he dared to whisper. “You both are.” He felt her hands cupping his face tenderly as if he wasn’t the killer everyone feared across the East Coast as if he was something precious even though he was broken beyond repair. “And you are ours, Bucky.” She kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his lips, and his left shoulder without disgust, without apprehension, but with deeply felt love.

As if he was perfect the way he was.

The fifth incident that proved him to have chosen wisely when following his heart for the first time in his life was after a business trip to Sicily that had taken too long for his liking, even though the business was good and the newly knitted connections invaluable. But it had made him leave his family for far too long than humanly tolerable, not even the many FaceTime calls had eased the sting in his heart.

“Make sure Enzo receives the gift for his wife and put a little something for him inside as well. Perhaps the Yamazaki Single Malt?” The 55-year-old whisky sure would make a fine gift for the young leader of the Sicilian Mafia, remembering an evening here and there when both men had shared a glass of scotch.

Steve walked beside him as they left the car and made their way over the sidewalk and behind the gate of the old brownstone in the best area in New York City. The cherry trees along the road were in full bloom, and the spring breeze was pleasant enough that the Barnes considered taking them all out for a day in Central Park. Work could wait after two weeks away from them. “Sure thing, Buck. I’ll call Stark to get a bottle,” the blond nodded and opened the door for his boss after walking up the stairs before entering the family home as well, happy sounds wafting through the air already.

Bucky visibly relaxed when he heard his family without a phone between them and handed Steve the concealed guns. They had made a rule for the house, and everyone obliged happily because everyone had been wrapped around their little fingers since the day they were born.

And no one would dare to go against Mrs. Barnes.

“I don’t want to be disturbed for the next couple of weeks, so handle everything and only bother me with situations that need my explicit attention,” was the last order the mobster could get out before the sound of small feet erupted from the living room and barreling toward the foyer.

“Papa!”

“Dada! No, waits for meeee! Annie, pwease! Mommyyyy!”

Bucky laughed as his eldest rounded the corner in full sprint, her little legs carrying her as fast they could, and the tall brunet crouched down to catch her little body. The little girl, resembling so much his wife, looked at his face with bright eyes, hands pressing against his cheeks and squishing them with an adorable chuckle.

“Привет, папочка,” she greeted him shyly, stumbling over her sounds and pronunciations, but Bucky kissed her little cheeks with such enthusiasm that her insecurities vanished in an instant. “Привет, солнышко,” the father returned with a kiss to her forehead and watched the questioning expression morphing onto his daughter’s face. Her tongue poked out between her lips, eyes wandering to the ceiling, brows drawn together in concentration—just like his wife. But then, she looked at him again, leaning closer as if she wanted to conspire with him. “What does that mean, papa? Yelena didn’t teach me that word yet,” she whispered, and Bucky laughed again, feeling almost crushed by the happiness he felt at that moment. “It means sunshine, my sunshine.” It made her smile as brightly as the sun outside the windows before she waved at Steve. “Hi, Uncle Stevie. You can go now. Papa is mine; you can have him back in… a long time.”

Nodding to underline her case, the almost six-year-old looked expectantly at his second in command, and Bucky turned with her still in his arms, looking just as expectantly as her. “You heard the little lady, Steve. Off you go,” he teased, and the blond shook his head with a smile, bowing before them. “As you wish, Princess Anastasia.” The girl huffed and showed the blond giant her tongue. “It’s Anya, Uncle Stevie! You always forget!” Chuckling, Steve took her hand and shook it apologetically. “You are right; my apologies, princess. Enjoy your time with your father.”

And with that, he left for his office, leaving the two in the foyer when they heard another set of steps.

“Anya, next time, wait for your brother, please,” Mrs. Barnes scolded the little girl gently, a smile on her lips and the little boy on her arm. His son nodded, holding his stuffed bunny at its long ears. “Yesh, waits for me, Annie! Dada!” More excitement echoed through the home as the small boy started to wiggle in her arms, and Bucky rushed over to her, catching Elijah before he could plop out of her embrace. “Careful, little troublemaker,” he laughed and held him with his other arm, hearing Anya scoff quietly. He threw his wife a questioning look, and in return, she only rolled her eyes at their children, softly shaking her head and taking Anya to her.

“They had a… falling out earlier.” Anya scoffed again as if her mother understated the entire ordeal, wanting to be put back on her feet, and hugged her mother’s hips closely. Elijah leaned his head against Bucky’s shoulder, bunny pressed tightly into his chest, watching his sister. “He ruined my homework! Miss Pepper said she’s suuuuuper excited for my solar system model, and then, papa, Eli just banged his stupid bunny on it!” Angry tears gathered in her eyes, almost rolling down her pretty face. His youngest looked positively undisturbed as he watched his sister unraveling over her homework, and Bucky sighed.

“Bunny s’not shtupid. Annie’s plant-… plants-… planets! Annie’s planets looks ugly, dada. Not pretty like mommy,” Elijah stated with confidence, making the tears finally spill over Anya’s cheeks. “I hate you! You’re not my little brother anymore!” And with that, the little girl pulled away from the soothing hands of her mother, almost tumbling over the stairs as she ran upstairs, a loud bang echoing through the house when she closed her door with force.

Another sigh escaped Bucky and his wife alike, both parents looking down at their little boy who started to chew on his bunny’s ear. “Honey, that wasn’t very nice to say,” she reprimanded her son and took him from Bucky when he stretched his little chubby arms toward his mother, keeping a hand on his little back. “Annie is sads?” She nodded and kissed the dark mob of hair her son had inherited from his father, just like the blue of his eyes. “She’s upset, baby, yes. We will give her a moment to calm down before we’re going upstairs to apologize, yes?”

Elijah nodded with tears in his eyes, and the father couldn’t hold back, so he gently cupped his youngest head and pressed a lingering kiss onto the wild dark curls. “Can me and bunny asks Miss Melina fors cookies?” Smiling, she pressed a kiss to his cheek before putting him onto his small feet. “But only one, baby!” He was already on his way, chanting for cookies.

In an instant, Bucky pulled his wife into his arms, capturing her lips with his, a rumbling moan escaping him at the taste and feel of her. “Two fucking weeks are too long, malyshka,” he stated with another lingering kiss, fingers tangled in her hair. “Tell me about it. Try to manage two kids who switch between being the bestes of friends and each other’s enemy number one multiple times a day.” Taking her in more closely, Bucky could see the dark circles under her eyes and the tight muscles around her lips. His thumb swept across the dark circles, and his lips followed to kiss them better. “I’m so sorry, milaya,” he murmured with another kiss to her forehead and felt her hand hitting him against the back of his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. You had to be there, and we had to stay here with school for Anya and Eli’s first day at kindergarten. We managed. I wouldn’t mind if you take over bedtime duty for a while, though.”

Bucky grinned happily at the prospect of spending time with his kids, feeling the love only a father could feel coursing through his body. “Of course, love. We’ll get you something nice on our stroll over Fifth and let the kids play in Central Park while you enjoy a book, alright? I’ll pick up a few new bedtime stories as well, so you will not even be remotely needed and can enjoy bath after bath. Would that make my wife happy?” Sighing, she leaned heavily against him, gathering strength through his strong body supporting the weight resting on her shoulders during the worst and most exhausting days—which they have had many in the past two weeks. “Sounds lovely. But don’t you dare spend a fortune on me again!” Her warning was unnecessary because Bucky would spend a fortune on his wonderful wife, and she knew that as well. “Please,” he chuckled and pressed another heated kiss to her lips, his fingers cupping her chin tenderly. “I’ll buy whatever you want, milaya. Perhaps we could even get something for us.”

He loved his wife in pretty clothes, but he loved her especially dearly in pretty lingerie he had no qualm of ripping off her gorgeous body the second she’d appear before him, reducing the masterfully crafted pieces to lacy shreds on their bedroom floor. The first time he did that, he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to pull her to bed, receiving a scolding he had gotten the last time, probably as a boy. She had been royally pissed at his antics, mourning the pretty set she had bought for their first night together. The next day, she received a delivery of all the pieces she had eyed at the shops and saved online, making her closet filled with more lingerie than a regular woman would need in her entire life.

Only that she wasn’t a regular woman with a regular man. He could buy her anything and in any quantity possible, so he wasn’t one to hold back when the urge to see this goddess of a woman naked made him growl and impatient—and even a tad jealous of the fabric touching her skin instead of his hands and lips.

“You are the worst of the bunch, Barnes. Seriously.” Exasperated, she looked up at him, her cheeks warming under his touch, and Bucky nodded with a serious expression. “I am insatiable when it comes to you, malyshka. And you thrive on the power you have over me.” Eye-rolling, she shook her head again, winding out of his arms and smacking his ass with a teasing smile. “Stop being a seventeen year old horndog and move your sexy backside up to your daughter. She’ll listen to you more than me after two weeks filled with my constant presence. I’ll see what I can save from her project, and stopping Elijah from munching on too many cookies…”

The last part was barely a mumble, already distracted by whatever thought wandered through her beautiful mind, and Bucky watched her retreating back with a smile before shrugging out of his suit jacket. Throwing it over the stair railing, he made his way to his eldest’s room, softly knocking at the door littered with pictures and posters of her favorite animals and characters—he could even see the remnants of a glitter pen—and knew how lucky he could count himself when he was allowed to enter his sunshine’s room.

He had the perfect wife, two healthy, wonderful children, and had found happiness despite the way his life had taken.

He had indeed chosen wisely.

author's note: Tysm for reading my silly little writing. As usual: likes, reblogs, and comments are so much appreciated! I love to read your thoughts <3

[miupow]

🤍🏹hi!

I LOVE your crave au and your writing.

Crave yeonjun is living rent free in my mind… and I beg you...

Feed my delusional brain a bit more plzzz😭

hi darling 💗 nothing brings me as much joy as the amount of love that crave has.. i never thought in a million years that silly one-off drabble would have such an impact on my readers !! anyone who knows me knows i LOVEE werewolves, and by extension this au is absolutely my baby. (and if anyone was wondering, skz is also in this au they’re a pack of their own in the same woods :3 cee actually wrote me a story about them for my bday it was amazing)

here’s jjunie!! tyun is last <3 expect him later tonight !! i wrote a lot for jjunie.. it’s because he’s my favorite and i love him. it makes me sad that he’s like the least favorite of the pack :( show crave jjunie some love guys

CRAVEVERSE ; werewolf!yeonjun headcanons !

cw ⸝⸝ sfw + nsfw hcs .ᐟ werewolf!yj (and werewolf!rest of txt) , fem!reader , no dark content warning for these hcs but general dark content warning for crave as an au. breeding kink, unprotected sex, knotting, possessive and protective behavior

SFW ;

-> crave!yeonjun who knows in his heart from the moment he lays eyes on you that youre his soulmate, the mate destined for him by the moon herself.. he can feel it in his soul!! you belong with him.. you belong to him.

-> crave!yeonjun who originally doesn’t want any of the others to even look in your direction, touch you, but gets worn down by just how quickly and effortlessly you seem to enchant them, mind body and soul. still absolutely loses his shit when he finds about about any “coupling” the first few times

-> crave!yeonjun who wants so desperately for you to feel the same he does… it’s okay, he’ll court you like all wolves do! but you just don’t understand his behavior, you’re just not a wolf like he is! and it drives him up the wall that you just can’t seem to understand and accept him like a true mate should !! let him hunt for you, bring you gifts, show you how good of a mate he can be!!

-> crave!yeonjun who talks the sweetest with you, calls you the most endearing little pet names; love, darling, sugar, pup, angel, dearest, precious.. he lays it on thick lol and tbh it’s a little creepy at first

-> crave!yeonjun who is overprotective to a fault, won’t let you anywhere out of his (or his brothers’) sight. who will do absolutely anything and everything to protect you and keep you safe by his side. who only gets worse and more toxic about it if you ever attempt to escape and run away. his beloved, his bleeding heart… he won’t ever let you leave him.

-> crave!yeonjun who is soft for his baby brothers and let’s them get away with far more than any other pack leader would. sure, it makes him look weak, but yeonjun doesn’t care. he loves his boys and knows that he has their respect and loyalty, even if they don’t act like it

-> crave!yeonjun who won’t tell anyone how he’s feeling because he doesn’t want to “burden” anyone with his struggles. who feels like he has the world on his shoulders trying to keep his rag-tag pack afloat

-> crave!yeonjun who uses his charm and charisma to get him and his pack out of trouble, who makes friends with everyone, even potential enemies.

-> crave!yeonjun who gets pouty like a puppy when you don’t give him attention, who gets so soft and gooey for physical affection and sweet words. even just telling him “thank you” will make him purr <3

-> crave!yeonjun who has never been kissed before, a strictly human behavior… but gets so drunk on your kisses once you teach him the wonders of a peck on the check, a kiss on the forehead, a sensual make out that leaves him wanting more

NSFW ; (under the cut!)

-> crave!yeonjun who controls how the other boys play with you >< who tells you and them what to do, what not to do. and don’t you dare break the rules. instructs you to deepthroat soobin but tells him he isn’t allowed to cum down your throat, directs him to cum all over your tits <3 loves you being their free use slut when he’s the one in control !

-> crave!yeonjun who’s absolutely insatiable, who is always desperate for you. pussy on his mind literally 24/7

-> crave!yeonjun who’s the most submissive behind soobin, who’s willing to do whatever you want as long as it’s what makes you happy :) also who’s secretly a slut for power bottoms

-> crave!yeonjun who gets so possessive of you when he’s in rut that he’s a genuine danger to the other boys. won’t let you up from his bed, where his instincts are telling him that you’re safest.

-> crave!yeonjun who is never cumming anywhere except into your pretty womb, pussy drunk, growling about how you were made to take his fat knot, how he’s hoping his seed takes.

-> crave!yeonjun who loves to eat pussy, loves pulling your legs apart and making a meal out of you as you cry and beg <3 is so nasty and messy with it too, animalistic as he devours you ~

-> crave!yeonjun who loves to make you feel good just as much as you make him feel good, who loves to see your face contort and your eyes roll back in pleasure— he loves to be the reason why you’re feeling so good, isn’t he such a good mate?

-> crave!yeonjun who will fuck and breed until you’re both exhausted, and then demand cuddles and kisses until he falls asleep with you in his arms <3 and if he wakes up in the middle of the night with you gone, he’ll be very unhappy.

[dixonsgirl93]

Daryl Dixon finding out you’re pregnant with his child and what he’d be like as a dad:

(I gotta be honest, I don’t normally like pregnancy/child tropes. They just don’t interest me in fiction HOWEVER this thought came to me. How would our sweet, traumatised boy react to having a family of his own??)

He’d be in shock, not believing you could really be carrying his baby, that he was gonna be a dad

He’d say he needs space/time to think about what this really means and he’ll disappear on “runs”. You wouldn’t hear from him for at least a couple weeks

He’d be terrified at first. Because of the idea of bringing a child into a broken world, because he fears he’d be a terrible father

He’d have to come to terms with not being able to run off and do his own thing. He’d have responsibilities now

He already knew he was never going to leave the pair of you. It was never in his mind to abandon you

He’d work even harder to protect you both, putting himself on the line more but secretly he’d enjoy it in a way, because he had something that was his and he’d give his life 1000 times over to protect what belonged to him

He’d teach them how to hunt from an early age, to fight, how to use his crossbow, the right berries and mushrooms to eat, how to fish and anything else Daryl knew, he’d pass it all on

What you wouldn’t know, was that when the child was much older, Daryl would teach them how to protect you both, should something happen to Daryl. He’d teach them to not let the grief consume them

While you were pregnant he’d kiss your belly loads, lovingly patting it and feeling the kicks. And when he first felt a kick he’d get teary eyed and it would be the first time he felt like a dad

He’d talk to his child while in your belly, telling them stories of the old world and of how badass he thinks their mom is

He’d be the first to bring you comforts, pillows, blankets, enough food so you could both stay strong

He wouldn’t be home too much, wanting better to be hunting for you, making a nursery for you but when he was home he focused his attention on you and the baby

He would be more anxious, wanting to provide for and protect you constantly but not being able to do both all the time

He would think of the family he lost and compare you and his child to himself, Merle and their dad, desperately wanting his child to have a better life than he did

When the baby was born, he’d spend a lot of time just holding and looking at them, memorising their features, looking for you and himself in them

He’d gently run his fingers over their soft skin. He couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could hurt a child, imagining his own scars and childhood

During childbirth he’d be at your side the whole time, encouraging you to be strong, giving you praises, clutching your hand and not caring that your nails were digging into his skin from the pain

When the child was older and told him that they were proud to have him as their dad, he’d sob, not caring who saw because it was something he’d been worried about for years. He was so certain he would fail any child in his care

If the child was a girl, he’d teach her not to take shit from men, he’d tell her about the certain tricks men use. He’d teach her to be strong and independent

If the child was a boy, he’d teach him how to be respectful to women, he’d teach him how to be a leader, how to protect people, how to be unbreakable but that emotional vulnerability was not weakness, but strength

He’d be a stern dad, soft sometimes but the child would quickly grow to be respectful, learn to communicate their feelings and feel safe and loved. Something Daryl never got

[mqfx]

do you think feng xin has any way of getting over his fear of women. like. we see he's not afraid of lan chang but I'm currently wondering how the fuck that came to be since I don't see him passing by a brothel willingly at all. also asking since I have a fem martial god oc and trying to make them at least somewhat get along

by clicking below this readmore you accept the terms and conditions that i'm 1) going to skate dangerously close to extremely bullshit psychoanalysis, 2) pulling egregiously from headcanons, and 3) it's been 2 years since i read canon end to end. now let us begin

actually another disclaimer: no i'm not writing a nice essay for this i literally have work tomorrow so if it's disorganized mais oui pay me and i'll do better. also, some discussion of sexual assault (canonically happened to jian lan + implications and social mores around it)

i think feng xin's "fear of women" is more complicated than just, "he's afraid of women." phobias can stem from something barely or not at all directly related; in other words, what you react to may not really be the cause of the fear. here's what darian leader, a bri'ish psychoanalyst, has to say on the matter:

"Amnesia, for Freud, was not the only form of defence. There was also a repression that operated by displacement, moving the emotional charge of an event on to some small and contingent detail."

now you may be like "my liege where the fuck are we. why am i tied to this chair. what's freud doing here." shhhh baby i'm working up to it. the question we must first ask, before "how can we fix him" is "what is it that needs fixing?" that is, we need to find the "event" that creates that "emotional charge" that then gets "displaced" on some "detail". most of these we already know or can guess at

event: many possible canon answers, all of them easy. he was under so much stress during the xianle fall and during his time with jian lan (a relationship borne from that very stress to begin with), which of course ends in baby's first thematic heartbreak. if this is the seed, the "event" from which his present-day phobia comes from, then of course the later ju yang problem could have triggered and exacerbated what was once latent anxiety into full-blown neurosis.

before that, he was wary of women. why? because feng xin is a stickler for black and white morality--as such, he likely followed strict codes of conduct for virtuous men towards women. but it's likely that he wasn't so scared that he couldn't fall in love with and have sex with a woman--he simply hadn't developed that phobia yet. that means, so far: i believe feng xin did not have his phobia until later.

this is where we get into headcanon territory as additional support for above. we know that feng xin was raised with the role of guardianship and protection. we can assume that this is a society that values chastity as well, given how people reacted to jian lan's rape as her being defiled, with the rapist expecting that she would marry him to preserve her honor, and it is considered notable that she fought back and demanded justice instead. what does that tell you about the kind of society they all grew up in?

not to mention, this is the society that taught its own crown prince to follow an ascetic path of cultivation, knowing damn full well he was expected as a crown prince to have babies in the future. a massive contradiction (which may be oversight on the author's part but we can't assume that in lit analysis i'm afraid so roll with it we must), but not unheard of, especially in conservative societies. but let's not get caught up in that rabbit hole of purity culture, which does not apply to an eastern-inspired fantasy

back to the points: 1) xianle was a conservative society that valued chastity. 2) feng xin was raised in this society to protect. 3) feng xin has a black and white view of the world. what does this make?

a guy with issues that's what. pre-phobia feng xin was wary of women because, we can assume, society drilled this into his head: women can be defiled. as a protector, it is your job to make sure this does not happen. you, a man, are capable of defiling, so you must watch your conduct so that you don't bring ruin to yourself and others. and there's no nuance, it's all or nothing

i have a lot of problems with that statement too but please consult.... like, any feminist philosopher. i vaguely remember judith butler saying smth about how "possessing the instrument of violence does not make the person inherently a violator" or smth in gender trouble, but surely you can find so many other versions of this statement

is what feng xin learned a truth of the world? NO! is it gonna be the basis of his moral code anyway? YEAH! but this would have worked in theory (internally, the Woman is not treated with respect so much as condescended to, but in practice, ideally, the Chivalric Man would Do No Harm upon the Woman) if two things didn't happen.

ok so right now we've got The Basis of Feng Xin's Moral Code in our hands. falling in love challenges that theory, because here he goes falling for a defiled woman and seeing her as a Person and not an Object to be protected. oh it's going great, he's gonna unlearn the toxic masculinity, he's gonna heal and have a more well-rounded outlook--

and then he gets his heart broken. which REINFORCES THE LESSON, that if you fuck a woman and then you can't protect her (in marriage, the only sanctuary of honor) it will ruin both your lives. now we've got the EVENT that becomes the seed. from here it's easy to see how centuries of requests of a sexual and procreative nature would be reopening that wound over and over and how he gets worse

at this point i think we can now answer some things. "what is it that needs fixing?" feng xin's attitude about sex, which is ingrained into him by both society and reinforced by an unfortunate heartbreak. "what is he afraid of?" not women, but failing his role as a protector by becoming the very instrument of dishonor and violence.

sex for feng xin carries double the negative connotations. now he's like, "i'm never doing that shit again it hurts so bad it's not worth it." "that shit" in this case is intrinsically tied to sex because this was the only period of his life in which he had it. am i saying that slutting it up could save him? if he had other, more neutral sexual experiences, perhaps with people who are not women, could he finally disconnect sex from those flawed conceptions (aha)? moving on

now we get to the second question. if then we accept that feng xin's not afraid of women but of dishonor, all it would really take for him to be normal about a woman is to eliminate every possibility of them being susceptible to that dishonor. in other words, a woman only has to be completely divorced from the notion of sex, completely inaccessible in one form or another. i mean, he's not afraid of ling wen even though she's a woman. why? because ling wen cannot BE fucked, so she is "safe" from him and he can let down his guard.

look. we know that feng xin's not the type of guy to . well he's not pei ming let's just say that, and even pei ming has some honor to him (all his dalliances are consensual). feng xin doesn't have any real reason to be afraid of himself. but when has fear ever been reasonable?

so finally to get to YOUR question, and not just the ones i used to facilitate this yap sesh: i don't think it would be that hard. depending on when this happens in the timeline, either have him come to some realization or other (perhaps it happened before the scene you wish to imagine) that his existence alone is not tainted, or that women aren't clamoring to fuck him (hard to make him unlearn the ju yang prayers though). or make your OC competent enough that he sees this OC primarily as a martial god and not for her femininity

and finally, a coda:

"so if it's not womanhood that terrifies him but sex, specifically 'destroying' or 'defiling' someone via sex, does this mean he's also gonna have problems if such a situation would arise that sex with someone known to have an ascetic cultivation can occur?"

yes. yes it does. :)

--

TLDR:

feng xin did not have his phobias yet before jian lan

bro was raised with chivalrous (or chauvinistic) views on women and sex, later reinforced by untimely heartbreak

he is not afraid of women; he is afraid of hurting others in very specific ways, which goes against his born protective "role"

hypothetical ways to ease his fear: give him more perspective or reassure him that a person will not be harmed by him

coda: it's gonna be hard for him to fuck someone with an ascetic cultivation background. on both sides. PLEASE consider this

[paperstorm]

Nice ask day!

Let's say you're writing an Avengers AU for Lone Star; which Lone Star character would be which Avengers character and if you're up for explaining, why?

Why have I never thought about this????? Okay. Okay lets get into it. I think ....

Captain America - Carlos. This feels obvious to me. Unbelievably kind-hearted, wants to do good and help people more than anything, weight of the world on his shoulders. Never thinks he's enough even as he's moving mountains. Willing to throw himself on every grenade so strangers don't get hurt. Puts on the bravest face but riddled with anxiety. Very gay but forced by Society to marry a woman. Can you tell Cap is my favourite.

Thor - Paul. Strong! Kind! Funny! Struggles a bit to feel like he belongs. Very noble, loves his friends.

Black Widow - Marjan. Clearly. Explanation not needed. Unbelievably badass. Vulnerable underneath but doesn't want anyone to see.

Iron Man - Owen. The leader, sometimes a wonderful human being, sometimes an asshole. Complicated. Traumatized, doesn't always handle it very well. Can be arrogant. Can also be the best group dad.

Hulk - JUDD. Of course it's Judd. Lorge. Doesn't understand his own strength sometimes. Wants more than anything to protect his friends. Heavy trauma underneath muscles.

Hawkeye - I'll be honest I mostly know these characters from the movies and Hawkeye has absolutely zero personality in any of them so this one is harder. Maybe Mateo? Comic book Hawkeye is hearing impaired and that makes him a little bit alienated from the others even tho they love him so maybe there's a bit of a parallel with Mateo's learning disability? Is that anything?? Its a stretch I know.

Okay that is the main 6 original Avengers but I can't leave out the rest of our firefam so

Winter Soldier - TK. Of course. If Carlos is Steve, TK has to be Bucky. Piercing blue-green eyes. Suffers the most out of any of them but is also the strongest for getting through it.

Captain Marvel - Tommy. The most powerful. Does no harm but takes no shit.

Spiderman - I changed my mind, Mateo is Spiderman. The baby of the group. No one is Hawkeye because movie Hawkeye sucks.

Falcon - Nancy. Bffs with Steve and Bucky. Always cracking jokes. Feels somewhat inadequate even tho she's awesome. Notices everything. Absolutely strong enough to take over when Cap hangs it up.

[6ilent-9ufferer]

For the past few days, the song "where is the justice" from death note the musical has been on my mind.

Show me what’s right about the wrongs that we allow

Yeah, why are wrongs allowed? And when you try to do something right, others tell you that you're wrong. Societal norms, cultural differences, and personal biases are all contributors to this.

Real people need to feel protected here and now

This rings true today now more than ever. One of the most vulnerable people among us is the uneducated and easily manipulated. That's why they're so easy to be recruited by cults. They want to feel protected and secure... To matter, to feel like they're a part of something bigger. And when confronted with evidence of their leader doing wrong, they don't care. They are so disillusioned by false promises that they turn a blind eye. They can't think for themselves and that's why cult leaders "love" them; their flock eat up the lies from the palm of their hand like a domesticated animal. Cult mentality is like sheep: when their "shepherd" herds them, they obey. It's a shame how much America has been dummied down.

We probably wouldn't have as many sheeple as we do today if America funded schools as much as they do the military; we would have better education and better pay for our teachers who work so hard to educate with what material they're given or allowed to teach.

This whole damn system’s broken way beyond repair

It’s just law

Not law and order

Not much good and seldom fair

Yep. That's our system today. Peaceful protesting? Fact checking? Gasp! The horror. The 🍊 man-baby scared shitless of peace and truth forbids it. This is why we can't have nice things: anything and everything will offend him and people like him for no reason.

We truly live in a society.

Till a lawyer’s tricks can fix the blame

What about the victims

Waiting for some justice?

How can we turn away

And say that's just the way things are?

We should never turn away from justice. This is a problem prominent in America. Some lawyers should not be lawyering. Some jurors should not have jury duty. And some judges should not be judging.

[Light's Teacher]

The world's not black and white

The choice not either, or

[Light]

Perhaps it's time we drain the color from within

Till we're back to seeing black and white

And wrong and right again

Sure, the world isn't black and white. But how can we see wrong and right with so many shades of grey?

[Light's Teacher]

"Overwrought pronouncements won't improve the paradigm"

[Light]

"Till lawyers cutting deals becomes a crime"

Honestly, it should be. Go off Light. Slay king. Uh, wait... Not literally.

Let the corporations make the regulations

And all go unaccountable when everything goes wrong

The corporations always blame someone or something else. When are they going to be held accountable? Better yet, when is the rotten 🍊 going to?

Let the rich and famous get away with murder

Every time a high-priced mouth piece starts to talk

His client gets to walk

Tell me where is the justice?

If there’s any justice

It's sickening that this happens. And not just with murder.

Where is the justice?

What good is law that can’t punish those who break it?

Yeah, what good is it when the "rich and famous" can just use their money and influence to get out of punishment?

Isn’t everybody sick to death of all this stuff

Can’t we all stand up and say enough?

Exactly. I know I have.

These lines hit so hard. I wish this musical was playing somewhere near me so I can watch and listen to it in person.

[cdyssey]

CW: Suicide Mention

Man, in the end, Marlene ended up being one of the most fascinating characters for me. So much of The Last of Us has been about the dynamics of a duo—what would you do for the one person that you loved? And relatedly, who the hell would you become should they ever be threatened or even lost?

Violence and grief often intertwine in response to this last question. Kathleen becomes what she had once despised in FEDRA—ruthless, so monomaniacally intent on revenge. Perry dies to protect her nonetheless because even between them, lopsided though it is, there is loyalty and love. We know that Joel almost died by suicide, and Henry actually does. When Joel lived after the fact, he surrendered to baser impulses and essentially lived the life of a raider for a long time.

Bill physically does everything in his power to protect Frank, and Frank doesn’t let him go even though there is a bullet in his abdomen. Bill’s last words to Joel are about what it means to protect that one person: “And God help any motherfuckers who stand in our way.

All of these dynamics shade Joel and Ellie, foreshadowing the choice that has to occur in that hospital.

In the last episode, we see one last iteration of it with Marlene and Anna. They’ve known one another their whole lives. They’re each other’s one person.

And we get to watch in real time as Marlene compartmentalizes.

She does it first when she chooses to swallow Anna’s lie about the umbilical cord. Marlene’s a seasoned rationalist and a survivor. She knows that she’s being lied to and that accepting the baby, as innocent and lovely as it may be, poses a dire risk should Ellie be infected.

But she separates herself from the consummate leader that she is and picks up Ellie in the same way that Ellie will tell Joel, “Okay” in the woods above Jackson.

Marlene doesn’t want to goddamn shoot her best friend. She’s so distraught. She walks out of the room, her eyes full of tears. But then, she changes her mind because she knows that pulling the trigger is the last act of love that she’ll show to Anna. And you can see her entire posture shift as she marches back into the room. She’s the relentless leader of the Fireflies again, cocksure with a gun. She fires remorselessly. She leaves the way she came.

She compartmentalizes when she takes Ellie back to the QZ, to a FEDRA run orphanage. She’s well aware that her volatile life is no place for a baby. And sure, FEDRA is her ideological enemy—they’re fucking fascists!—but she knows that Ellie will grow up safe there, which is more than she can guarantee her best friend’s daughter. She won’t be happy. She probably won’t even be loved. But she’ll be safe, and in a post-apocalyptic world, that’s pretty much the best that most people can hope for.

Sure, she’s probably conscious of the fact that this is exactly what Anna would have detested for her daughter, but I think that’s how Marlene’s own grief is functioning. She puts it out of sight and out of mind.

She compartmentalizes when she rejects Riley’s plea to fold Ellie into the Fireflies. We don’t really get Marlene’s motivation here, but my guess is that it’s twofold. She’s still holding on to the idea of keeping Ellie safe, but she’s also continuing to keep Ellie out of arm’s reach, so she doesn’t grow attached, so she doesn’t conceptualize her best friend’s daughter as an actual person.

She compartmentalizes when she makes sure that her crew doesn’t immediately light up Ellie when they see that she’s been bitten. Because she recognizes her. Even though there’s risk, there’s also affection, and this is the same choice that she made when Anna was pleading with her to take the baby.

(Does Marlene think of Anna when she finds Ellie next to Riley in the mall? She sees the bite mark on that dead child’s hand. She immediately intuits what had to be done because she had to do the same herself.)

She compartmentalizes when she talks to Ellie in depth for the first time and doesn’t give her a singular hint that she’d been close friends with her mother beyond the fact that she’d dropped her off at the orphanage. This would have been a prime opportunity to create a bond between them, but she withholds that information and thus becomes a shadow of Joel, who kept the cards about his own personal life so close to his chest for the first six-ish episodes.

She compartmentalizes when she thrusts Ellie over to Joel, a man she clearly hates; she knows what he’s capable of. But if this is what it takes to get Ellie to the Fireflies, then this is the choice she has to make.

We see her one last time in Salt Lake City, and to me, it’s so clear that she’s cordoned herself off from her feelings in her horrible, batshit stupid decision to put Ellie under the knife like she did. And if we look at her arc throughout the show, she’s systematically made it easier for herself to do so, pushing away every attempt to get closer to Ellie, to see her as a person and not as a means to an end, despite the grief that does a number on her anyway. It’s telling that she only tears up when Joel is dragged away.

I absolutely believe her at face value when she says that she’s the only one who understands what Joel is going through because she does. She loved Anna so deeply, and she lost her. In the aftermath of that life-altering event, she became a different person in the same way that Joel did when he lost Sarah. And they both have a powerful connection to Ellie. They’ve protected her. They’ve failed her. They’ve saved her. They’ve let her down.

These individuals are two sides of the same coin. But where Joel traveled across the country with this foul-mouthed, tenacious, take-no-shit, extraordinary fourteen-year old and learned to love her, Marlene never allowed herself to be in the same room long enough with Ellie to get the opportunity to do so.

It’s fucked up, sure.

Absolutely.

But it’s complicated and so human, as are all of the characters on this amazing show.

I almost wonder what would have happened had Marlene had to be the one to carry Ellie across the entire United States in search for a cure. Would her pragmatism and her staunch ability to compartmentalize have been able to withstand being in such intimate proximity to a person?

And not just any person—but her best friend’s daughter… who looks so much like her?

My wager is no. Absolutely not.

She would have loved Ellie too.

[molscol]

Hey guys! So the first chapter is finally here!

I haven't wrote things like this in years- the last time being when I was in the BNHA fandom, and trust me, it was truly a nightmare.

Now remember this is all just for fun! I'm not an expert writer by any means so if you have any tips that would be greatly appreciated!!

Also I inspired the Mechanic guy off of the Mechanic from the Lego Ninjago Series! I found the Mechanic to be a silly character but he definitely contributed to many bigger villains.. wonder what this Mechanic will do..

Chapter One: The Mechanic

The rise universe as we know is much more vibrant and colour than their previous counterparts worlds. The Nighttime streets are filled with Lights and people.

This is all the brothers had known, they loved their city very much and would do anything they could to protect it.

After the event of the kraang, the brothers were clearly affected, Donnie often suffered pains in his back, but as usual he stubbornly kept to himself in his lair. The only one he'd allow to come in was his Younger brother, the sunshine of the Family, mikey

This led to the leaderous Duo, Raph and Leo, to often help eachother with problems, Lwo clearly suffered with self doubt when it came to his leading skills, but Raph, the previous leader in red became the backbone to helping Leo gain confidence in his journey to being the leader his team needed.

And as much as the brothers split into their secluded duos, they all loved eachother dearly, no matter how much they fought or argued, they'd have eachothers back...

~The present Day~

The turtle brothers were out on another stealth mission, it wasn't a footclan situation though, they had been disbanded after the events of the kraang invasion.

"Hey Donnie! You got eyes on this new guy? Raph doesn't think recognise him.."

Raph had questioned his genius brother as he was flying through the air with his Tech.

"Why thank you raph for questioning my great skills of observation he says sarcastically"

"Well looks like someone is grumpy today ay hermano? Don't worry Raph! Ol' Neon Leon's got it!" The leader in blue teased his twin as he hopped from roof to roof, pulling out his twin Katanas to teleport to his desired spot.

A flash of blue light opened up and Leo hopped into his portal, landing right infront of the culprit.

The Mechanic stopped and turned around to escape, however he was stopped by Donnie and Raph.

"Nowhere to go now huh Amigo? This would be a great time to hand in those stolen parts!"

But unfortunately and as usual, the bad guy never give up that easily do they? The Mechanic didn't give up his precious parts.

But after one glance at the turtle brothers, who looks unusually intimidating.. he ran away- leaving all the parts behind.

"Who would want all this junk? It doesn't make sense on why that guy would steal things like this.." Raph picked up one of the stolen parts.

"Hey Donnie could you have a look at this when we get back to the lair? If anything you might know what it is"

The eldest handed over the more undamaged pieces of the metals and parts to his genius brother, hoping that he could have a further look at what the mechanic could possibly find..

Soon the turtle brothers return home pretty much unscathed, Raph and Leo wondered off to get something to eat while they left their brother in purple to hopefully figure out what the parts could be for.

"Tell me again why we let mikey go ALONE with Baron Draxum? I mean he threw me off a building!" Even after all this Time, Baron draxum still made Leo uneasy.. especially the fact that his younger brother was the only one with him..

"We've been over this Leo! Mikey and Draxum are in the hidden city to hopefully help mikey control his Mystic hands better" Raph sighed after he spoke- he also didn't like the idea of mikey being with draxum.. but if his baby brother was happy then he considered it to be alright.

The two brothers continued there small talk before they were interupted by a very dusty looking Donnie-

"Uhm Donnie- why do you look like you've been through the mines?" Leo questioned his twin before he was shushed by Raph, who was hoping to get an answer quicker

"Well my simple minded brother- I have finally done it! Mikey and I had been working on this for a while now.. I've finally made dimension hopping a reality beyond your nimpo!"

**WHAT?!**

Ooooo wonder what that part contributed too... :)

Well there you have it folks, it seems portals are a common thing in this family- but anyways! Hope you enjoyed this! You will be seeing much more of Mikey in the future chapters! But I just wanted to bring the story in without a lot happening!

I also wanted to introduce that this is after the kraang invasion. I didn't do it too much but in later chapters, the brothers trauma will be more looked into later!

[miasmat]

I’m in love with your Nihl but please tell me more about them 🥺 like their gender identity/sexual orientation/personality anything pls

Thank you so much for this ask, I am so sorry it took so long to answer but I wanted to gather all I have on him for ya ;w; So Nihl is cis, he's bi with a preference towards men.

Nihl's father Evindal is an elf, his mother Tharlesa is a human. He's got a brother - Tanithil, the oldest of the three of them, a middle sister Llyriana, and then there's the youngest Nihlorin of the Galamaer family, aged 23. Nihl father is a healer, his mother is a midwife. His sister has a husband and already has kid(s?) of her own.

His mother really wanted a third child. From what Nihl heard, she used to ask and ask for over a year for a third one. "She missed the smell of a baby" his father would joke. Being the only magically gifted individual in their family, he's a quite different approach to Weave than most. While to Gale the Weave is everything, not a minute passes where he doesn't surround himself by it for any reason or purpose, to Nihl it's more of a tool, a hammer you pick up when you need it and put it back once you're done. He's cultivated this approach due to the way his family worked around the house and more than a few failed experiments when he tried to put his sorcerer's powers to make his life easier; gaining the exactly opposite effect as well as a few scars, including the one on his cheek. Personality-wise, Nihl is a rather sincere person, steadfast, one to tackle the problem with a brave face. He has a sarcastic side to him too, especially when annoyed, or close with someone. He is the sunshine archetype, nearly always with at least half a smile on his face, but one can catch a glimpse of the weight on his shoulders showing on his face when he thinks he's left alone. A lot of Nihl's personality shows when bounced off of Gale. They're a wizard and sorcerer duo. Purple and gold. Moon and sun. Crocus and daffodil. Both idealistic, good at heart, willing to go to lengths and make sacrifices to bring peace to those in need. Though Nihl being far younger is prone to making rushed decisions and overall poor judgment, often assuming the best in people, mistaking malice for ignorance. Though it seems that these lapses he makes don't bother him, or at least he never lets it show if they do. Below are copied conversations, so I apologise if they are a bit hard to read.

Being the youngest sibling, deep down he is terrified of the responsibility of being a leader. Always the third and always the 'baby' of the family, he rarely had the chance to "be on the front". But he takes it all on, he has to (partly because he needs to prove himself, he can be like his siblings, he can do good too!). But his magic is unstable, unreliable sometimes even. He feels, knows ,that Gale's fate is in his hands, and he's afraid that he will fail. Fail his parents, his siblings, Gale, his friends, the world, all of them. This part feels a bit muddy in my memory, but I believe that I headcanoned Nihl to have been sent off to a school that mistreated its students. Nihl, knowing how much work his parents put into sending him into such a prestigious place, decided to endure it, and never let his parents know what went on in there for the ultimately short time he spent there.

"Nihl sees the whip in Abdirak's hand and suddenly he's 14 again, his abjuration teacher stands before him and the sound of leather squeezed in his palm permeates the air like nails scraping over chalkboard. It's been two hours now, Nihl thinks, it's hard to tell after the sun has set. Two hours when he's been trying to cast a ward to shield himself from the whip like the teacher told him to. He fails each time and wont be allowed to leave until he finally manages to protect himself from at least one strike. Gale's innocent joke brings him back to reality, though the smell of blood lingers on from the memory, into the present." The thing that Gale teaches him, shows him through their adventures together, is that no matter the circumstances, no matter what hardships you are subjected to because of magic, you can always find beauty in it and through it. Despite your experiences of magic you can overcome those, and it's not magic itself that had hurt him, but people who wield it for evil means. Nihl doesn't have that many scars from his time at school, because the teachers had other, *preferred*, means of reprimanding the students and it's for the same reason that Nihl doesn't touch the Illusion type magic at all.

[casspurrjoybell-28]

Alpha's Addiction - Chapter 6a

*Warning Adult Content*

Journey - Part 1 - Kao

I scramble for my knife, searching for a few seconds before I realize they must have taken it.

Which makes sense if they're choosing to hold us captive.

But we are not tied up... I hear his heavy footsteps... I know they're his, how can I not when the closer he gets to the tent the butterflies in my stomach feel like they'll fly up my throat.

Curse it. It's not by my choice.

Just this stupid mate bond.

I quickly lie back beside Oliver, pretending to be asleep.

Perhaps he will proceed with less caution if he thinks I'm still out and I'll be able to make a move.

I hear the fabric pulling back.

"Ah. You are awake," his deep voice startles me.

Fuck. Of course.

I should've known tricking him would be harder than that.

I sit up, glaring at him.

"Whatever you plan to do to us, I promise it will not end well for you."

"Do to you? Why make it sound like that?"

He raises an eyebrow.

"Because that's how you Alphas work. Y-you always act on your selfish desires."

"If the selfish desire is to keep my mate and his pup safe, then yes. I do act on that."

I scoff.

"Don't you sugarcoat it, dickhead. I'm not an idiot. So, what? Do you plan on keeping me captive until I go along with this mate shit? It won't work. I'll never submit to you."

He's quiet for a moment, studying me.

He still gives nothing away by his expression and it's absolutely infuriating.

"I do not wish to force you into anything. But.. There are rogues in these woods. Predators. You are easy targets, an Omega and a pup. I cannot let you leave my protection."

"Fuck you. We're not easy target."

"You are covered in bruises. You collapsed, bleeding in my arms. Am I supposed to believe those injuries did not come from an assailant?"

"I... I am fine. He's dead."

"It does not change the fact that there are others out there who will hurt you."

"So assuming every damn wolf in these woods is out to get us... how can I trust you?"

"I am your mate," he replies, like it's the most explanatory reason in the world as to why I should let my guard down.

Fat chance.

"First of all, no. No. We're not..."

"Deny what you will. The evidence is what you feel in your chest, as I do in mine. Your wolf longs for me, does it not?"

My cheeks flush in embarrassment, annoyed by the fact that he's right.

Not that I'd ever admit it.

"I feel nothing for you," I snap.

He goes quiet. He looks hurt. Hah.

I can't imagine why.

He barely knows me.

Why would what I think of him matter?

He could just snatch up another Omega, if he wanted.

An Omega far more suited for him than me.

And it's not like an Omega reciprocating affection has ever been necessary.

He can take what he wants, like all the others do.

Still, I feel the need to justify myself, for some reason.

But no words come to my tongue.

Instead, I give him a withering glare, wrapping my arms around Oliver protectively.

His eyes are icy, boring through my soul.

I've definitely angered him.

"Will you tell me your name, at least?" he asks, any warmth gone from his tone.

I stubbornly look away, refusing to answer.

He huffs in displeasure, before retreating.

"Fine then. You are not to leave. Do not even think of running."

Then he roughly throws the tent open and storms off.

I make a rude gesture in the direction he left in, gritting my teeth.

Fuck this guy.

A while later, the female Alpha I know as Lonnie comes to our tent.

She's got pale, ivory skin and large black eyes, making her look insect-like.

Her hair is dark brown, cut short.

I regard her with suspicion.

"I'm only here to tell you that we're heading back to the pack now."

"The pack?" I ask, looking to the recently awakened Oliver who still looks half asleep.

Poor baby.

He must've been so tired.

"Yes. Our pack. The Nightshade Pack. Cyrus, your mate, is our Alpha. He's needed back at home."

Alpha.

I quickly process the information.

So he's their leader.

Which means I've run from one crazy Alpha of a pack who forced me to be his mate to another who actually is my mate and also seems to want to force me to go along with it.

Or at least hold me captive.

'He's no different from Zacan'.

My wolf bristles at the statement, not liking what I'm suggesting.

"Chop chop. We're leaving within the hour," she urges, then leaves before I can make a retort.

I sigh, putting my face in my hands.

What can I do?

They'll catch us if we try to escape.

And even if we do manage, where will we go?

I tried to follow the North Star and look where that's gotten me.

I have to accept I have no talent for navigation.

Oliver and I may end up alone and lost in the woods, starving.

I can't risk that.

I make a decision there and then.

We will go with these wolves.

For now.

If they can provide food and shelter, I can't pass that up.

Moon Goddess knows Oliver needs it.

He looks more exhausted than I do, and he's not even the one with multiple injuries.

"Are we gonna go with them, Mama?" he asks in a small voice.

"Yes," I reply, hoping my voice doesn't waver.

"But do not tell them where we came from. Nothing. We cannot risk rumors spreading and getting back to Zacan. He'd find us."

Oliver nods solemnly.

He's always listened well.

I hear his stomach growl just then and know I must find food.

Even if it means leaving the tent I've been treating as my safe haven from the world and situation, stirring outside.

I tentatively take Oliver out, holding him on my hip as he rests against my shoulder.

He's gotten so big, man.

My arms already feel like they're going to fall off.

But I ignore the strain of my muscles, walking over to where an unfamiliar alpha stands.

"Excuse me? He's hungry," I tell him, causing him to whip around in surprise.

He must be Xavier.

The one Lonnie was talking to earlier.

He looks opposite of her.

He's brown, like me but about two shades darker.

His eyes can only be described as a mix between yellow and orange, like a sunset.

He has long dreadlocks tied up in a semi-knot on his head, some of the longer strands trailing down his back.

"You have such light footsteps," he remarks, eyes wide as he surveys me and my son.

"He's hungry," I repeat.

"Yes," he bows his head.

"I will fetch him food right away, Luna."

The title catches me off guard.

"You're mistaken," I say, narrowing my eyes at him.

"That is not what I am."

He looks confused for a moment, before bowing his head again.

"My apologies."

Then he walks over to the fire, getting the food where it sits in a lidded pot beside it.

*

Cyrus won't leave me alone.

Although we do not speak to each other, he refuses to move from my side as we travel through the forest.

Cyrus, Lonnie and Xavier are all transformed into their wolves, while Oliver and I remain in human form.

Oliver doesn't even know how to transform yet.

And me... well I've barely transformed since I got pregnant with him.

Once Omegas were deemed 'of age' we weren't allowed outside much, which is the only place our wolves could run free.

On my other side Xavier flanks Oliver and I and Lonnie walks behind us.

We're completely surrounded.

I wonder if it's for our protection or so we don't make a run for it.

Maybe both.

I've been concealing my injured ankle, doing my best to hide the ache that smarts my leg with every step.

But it only gets worse as we go on, the pain increasing until it feels like a knife tearing through my ligaments.

I feel annoyed that I haven't healed yet.

But then again, Omegas heal slower.

Abruptly, I stumble to the ground, cursing as I let out a whine at the hurt.

Immediately, Cyrus stops, looking to me with urgency.

I can't walk. I'm weak, dehydrated, exhausted beyond belief.

I can't go on.

I really can't.

[jiaoji]

"WWX proclaimed himself the enemy of the cultivation world"

So why he didn't even knew about this? Why he would do that if he just wanted to live in peace and whitout upsetting even more the Clans, that very much could kill him?

Put the quote of the chapter.

"Just because JC is a sect leader doesn't mean he has more influence than JGS"

NMJ said YMJ was very powerfull, JGS was drolling over WWX's power, JGY said that if JC wasn't such a bitch he could have been a huge sect with WWX and the cultivators that where coming because of him, the war hero.

One of the sect leaders spoke in a bitter tone, "This time, Lotus Pier is really the center of attention. Almost all spirits and corpses were summoned to the grounds of the YunmengJiang Sect. Certainly there would be a good number of cultivators interested in them.

Sect Leader Yao, "What can we do? Whose fault is it that our sects do not have Wei WuXian?

"Being cut off their loved ones of the reencarnation circle"

Quote? Wich chapter say that? Because i saw a totally different thing.

Wei WuXian's ghost path could only call those who already were meant to rise. He can disturb the dead's sleep by destroying their grave but once the battle finished, they could still move on! He never destroyed any reincarnation cycle.

Not even with Wen Ning, MXTX herself said someday in the future Wen Ning would die truly and he will enter the cycle of reincarnation

If you can tell me a quote of the novel he does that, please show me.

In fact, when JC tells WWX that he can't protect him if he defends the Wen Remnants, WWX flat out /rejects/ him. (So what are you crying to JC for?) WWX believes he can protect them himself. And he does. For almost a couple of years.

WWX rejects because JC way of 'help' was burning WN and giving away elders and a 2 years old baby back to a forced work camp:

Jiang Cheng, "It's all over? How would that be possible?! Don't you know how many eyes are watching you right now? How many are watching your amulet? If they had a chance, you wouldn't be right not even if it's right!"

Wei WuXian, "You already said. I wouldn't be right even if is right. What else could I do but lock myself in here?"

Jiang Cheng, "What else? Of course there is something.", With Sandu, he pointed at Wen Ning, who was lying on the ground, "The only way to make it up is for us to end things before they get a chance to do it!"

Wei WuXian, "Finish what?"

Jiang Cheng, "Burn this corpse right now and return all those remnants of the Wen Sect. It's the only way to make the matter die!", As he spoke, he raised his sword again, preparing to strike. attack.

However, Wei WuXian squeezed his wrist, "Are you kidding?! If we returned Wen Qing and the others, they would find nothing but death!

Jiang Cheng, "I doubt you'll even return all of them. Why you care what end they will meet? Let it be death, then — what does it. Does it have anything to do with you?!"

Wei WuXian finally lost his temper, "Jiang Cheng! What- Do What do you think you're talking about?! Save it — don't make me spank you! Do not forget. Who helped us to incinerate Uncle's bodies? Jiang and Madam Yu? Who gave us back the ashes that are right now at Lotus Pier? And who welcomed us when were we running away from Wen Chao?!"

Jiang Cheng, "I'm the one who wants to give you a fucking spanking! Yes, they helped before, but why the hell don't you understand that, at this moment, Is any remnant of the Wen Sect a target of criticism?! It doesn't matter whoever they are, just having the surname Wen has already committed the most serious crime! And whoever protects the Wen is at risk of being convicted of everyone! All the people hate the Dogs-Wen so much, that, as the worse their death, the better it will be. Anyone who protects them will be against the whole world. No one would speak for them, and no one would speak to their please too!"

Wei WuXian, "I don't need anyone to speak on my behalf."

Chapter 73: Recklessness - Part two

(Interesting to say he saw A'Yuan just a moment ago, and still has THIS opinion)

The "cry" is because JC could have said everything the Wen siblings but he didn't because he was in bad mood

Jiang Cheng's brows were furrowed. He massaged the vein that was pulsing in his temple and took a deep breath silently, ".. I apologize to all Sect Leaders. All of you, I'm afraid not know that the Wen cultivator whom Wei WuXian wanted to save called Wen Ning. We owe him and his sister a debt of gratitude. Wen Qing for what happened during the Sunfall Campaign."

Nie MingJue, "Do you owe them a debt of gratitude? Wasn't it QishanWen who caused the annihilation of the YunmengJiang Sect?" These past few years, Jiang Cheng insisted on working late into the night. every day. That day, he had just decided to rest more early, and he had to run in the middle of the night to the Carp Tower because of the thundering news. He had been suppressing some of the anger under his fatigue from the beginning. With his natural competitiveness, he was alreadyquite agitated about having to apologize to other people. When heard Nie MingJue mention his sect's incident again, hatredwelled up inside him.

Chapter 73: Recklessness - Part two

Even when LAN XICHEN speaked for them

Lan XiChen replied a moment later, "I've heard the name of Wen Qing a few times. I don't remember her having participated in any of the crimes in the Sunfall Campaign."

Nie MingJue, "But she never stopped them either."

Lan XiChen, "Wen Qing was one of the people Wen RuoHan most trusted. How could she stop them?

Chapter 73: Recklessness - Part two

And LAN WANGJI tried to speak for WN and WQ when they arrived at the koi tower (and the Lans still haven't faced any threats, except when LWJ is caught by his clan, and even that his repitation still intact and protected. In fact, i'm pretty sure the others would have said WWX tricked the rightous HanGuang-jun, like JGY said after the suibian revelation)

Lan WangJi shook his head.

Wen Ning, "Thank you for interceding for me and my sister, at that time, at the Carp tower. I always remembered that. And I'm really sorry I lost control after.

JZX, who was the one to invite WWX despite knowing the opposition it would bring to him and DID cause.

I'm pretty sure if he could, he would NOT invite WWX, and even when he did, he didn't cared if he would be ambushed the way to carp tower

He even scoded him for trying to defend himself

Jin ZiXuan, However, he didn't know what was inside the box yet. He raised his hand and blocked the attack, yelling, "Wei WuXian! Haven't you already had the enough?!"

Wei WuXian's chest rose and fell heavily. her eyes were red. Jin ZiXuan and Jin ZiXun were cousins ​​who had known each other since that they were children. With nearly twenty years between them at this point, it was really hard for him to defend a stranger. And actually, he too didn't like Wei WuXian as a person.

Collecting himself, he spoke, "Tell Wen Ning to stop first. let him continue his rage and make the situation worse than it already is."

Wei WuXian's voice was gruff, "... Why don't you make them stop first?"

Relentless screams and roars came from all around. Jin ZiXuan se raged, "Why are you still so stubborn at a time like this?

When everyone calms down, you can follow me back to the Tower of Carp to explain things and answer some questions. With all cleared up, if you didn't do it, of course you'll be fine!"

Wei WuXian, "Tell him to stop? As soon as I tell Wen Ning to stop stop now, the arrows will fly straight to my heart and it won't Not even my complete corpse will remain! And do you think I could explain the things in the Carp Tower?

Jin ZiXuan, "They won't do it!"

Wei WuXian chuckled, "You won't? How can you be sure? Jin ZiXuan, I have a question — when you invited me at the beginning, I really didn't knew about their plan to kill me?!

After years of persuading others to not take offence to WWX's words & actions, of lessening the load of WWX's disciplinary punishment, of standing at his side & understanding WWX without needing words to be spoken, it would be absurd to say JC ever stopped trying to protect him.

He did at the exactly time WWX decided to not follow Wen Zhulio's path with blind loyalty. He actually never understood WWX's thoughts and actions because he cared too little about him, and stoped when WWX tried to pay HIS LIFE DEBT!

JC is what he is, i don't understand why people want to make him the poor misunderstooding protagonist.

If WWX is the rightous protagonist and JC is an classicist antaghonist, and thats it, theres no need to make him a poor thing

I think i just said what i wanted to say, if you want to still discuss this know that i don't give a fuck and i'm too lazy to continue so you will discuss alone

Bye

Okay. Here's to the antis crying that Jiang Cheng should have done more for the Wen Remnants.

Just no. WWX had already proclaimed himself an enemy when he intruded upon a conference at Koi Tower to threaten that he'd kill whoever dared to stop him from rescuing the Remnants. Anyone, especially YMJ would be committing political and literal suicide by aiding with WWX.

YMJ would not have been able to survive that. They had just survived a mass massacre and a long war. In a climate made on hierarchy, JC is in his young 20s. He has no allies.

His current Sect is made of a thrown together a collection of rouge cultivators and fresh disciples he had to train in less than a few months right after he survived watching his Sect burn, being tortured, and losing his core. Then, WWX was gone.

Still, JC went to war. To avenge his family, his people, his land, and to protect them from a tyrant. With WRH down, now JGS is the next. And we see the direct and very public pressure JGS puts on JC to distance from WWX.

Just because 'JC is a Sect Leader' doesn't mean he has more influence than JGS and the elders of the Jin Sect. Maybe the Lan's would have had that respect, but they had their own issues to resolve and their own alliances to maintain.

Speaking of which, YMJ needed their alliance with the Jin's. Only then would JC have more sway. As allies, there would be less incentive to destroy YMJ. There would also be public scrutiny cast on the Jin's should they openly damage their alliance with YMJ. Scrutiny that JGS and JGY do not want when they are conducting nefarious schemes to gain control (see Xue Yang in his extra with JGY).

With JC actively working to make peace with the Jin's, in addition to having JZX engaged to JYL, JC is able to take the attention and pressure off WWX and the Wen Remnants. The people don't want to focus on the threat that WWX is to their lives, their culture, and their loved ones (if they get raised from death and cut off from the circle of reincarnation). They talk about the grand wedding hosted between the Jin's & Jiang's. They talk about the birth of JL and his celebrations.

In fact, when JC tells WWX that he can't protect him if he defends the Wen Remnants, WWX flat out /rejects/ him. (So what are you crying to JC for?) WWX believes he can protect them himself. And he does. For almost a couple of years.

When does it go wrong? When WWX leaves BM and is on his way to attend JL's celebration.Jin Zixun ambushes & scapegoats him (endorsed by JGS!) WWX loses control of WN and WN murders Jin Zixuan.

JZX, who was the one to invite WWX despite knowing the opposition it would bring to him and DID cause.

Even in the ridiculous situation of JC housing the Remnants in LP (nvm his and his people's trauma of the Wen's), the Jin's scheming to murder would have happened to WWX regardless of where he was with the Remnants.

It's f*cked up. But does JC have control over JGS and JGY? No. So stop blaming JC for their downfall. It was on WWX to protect the Wen's and to control WN, no one else.

(Note, if JZX, his firstborn son and Sect Heir, could not persuade JGS and his clan to back off from WWX, what makes you think JC could?)

Afterwards, WN and WQ both decide on their own that in order to answer for the deaths at Qiongqi Path and JZX's murder, that they comply to the Jin's demand. They go voluntarily.

They tell WWX that they are grateful to him for the extra year of life and peace he gave them.

They leave with no regrets.

Again, I must ask you, why blame JC for their deaths?

JC knew that their ruin would eventually occur and tried to warn WWX. JC tried to stop it from happening by killing WN when he was uncontrollable and unpredictable, when WN had no conscience. But JC doesn't kill him. Bc WWX told him not to.

(WN nearly breaks out of BM but luckily LWJ happened to be there to help WWX subdue him and somehow restore his conscience, which WWX never knew would happen. So JC's concerns were not unwarranted.)

Forget and ignore at your convenience, but JC DOES speak up for WWX's actions and reasons for defending the Wen Remnants. No one else does. (Again, see my previous thread.) At the Pledge Conference, where the Sects are deciding what to do about WWX after JZX's death at Nightless City, it would not be hard to assume JC would try to not have them execute WWX. In the end we don't know, but we can say that he was unhappy with their decision to hunt down WWX for good.

After years of persuading others to not take offence to WWX's words & actions, of lessening the load of WWX's disciplinary punishment, of standing at his side & understanding WWX without needing words to be spoken, it would be absurd to say JC ever stopped trying to protect him.

But JC is only human. He could only protect WWX, and when WWX rejected his help, he could not do much else. He could only delay the inevitable.

He could not have protected the Wen Remnants even if he wanted to. Just like how WWX wanted to save them, but couldn't in the world that they live in where an eye for an eye is never enough, and the consequences of their actions never die no matter what their intentions are.

[starsscribble]

Stick Shift

Summary: Rick thinks he freeing Y/n. Y/n thinks she's the problem.

Tags: Angst, No comfort, Age Difference, Reader is 25 Rick is in in 40.

A/n: This was when I was on my Walking Dead kick. Finally got it edited.

But today I drove through the suburbs

Crying 'cause you weren't around

  You pulled into the post-apocalyptic suburbs; in a separate car than what Glenn and you left in. Your earlier pride of find and driving said care was gone. Now in it place was a numb type of sadness. It was stupid. You know that. Getting worked up over the fact you were driving a stick shift. All on your own. But Rick. Your boyfriend; ex-boyfriend now. He had been the one to teach you how to drive a stick shift. Before Virginia. When the group was still in the prison. When you were both still happy.

  “Come on,” his southern drawl was clear as day. You let out a puff of air. Head pushing against the headrest. “This was your idea. You gotta confess something.” You started to hate that you suggested this game, but the drive was so damn long. You didn’t have the radio to help distract you. No, it was just you, Rick, and a long stretch of Georgia backroad. The former sheriff’s right hand shifted off the steering wheel. Moving carefully as not to catch your attention. You were still racking your brain for a secret to tell. Then a yelp left your mouth. You jumped in your seat making the older man laugh. Hand retreated to the wheel.

“That’s what you get for taking so long pumpkin.” He grinned; eyes shifted from the road onto you. A hint of playfulness in those ocean blue eyes. 

“I was thinking of something!” You shot back making him chuckle before looking back to the road. 

“There’s gotta be something you have never told anyone.”

“Well,” you hummed. Readjusting in your seat. “I don’t know if this would count because I’ve never told this to anyone in the group.”

“I’ll count it.” He glances at you quickly, still smiling. Which makes you smile.

“Alright. I don’t know how to drive a stick shift.” You feel the jerk was the car spot. Rick looked at you as if you just told him the undead are all gone. Eye full of disbelief. 

“You’re joking.” He speaks after a beat and you shake your head. Nope, you couldn’t drive a stick to save your life. And with how the world was it just might. Rick took off his seatbelt as you questioned just what he was doing. “I’m gonna teach you how to drive stick. You might need it.”

“We are on a run.”

“Yep and this is the perfect time. Now get into the driver’s seat.”

  Slowly you parked next to Glenn. Killing the engine you got out as Glenn moved over to your vehicle. He smiled at you. Today was a good day. Got more food, medicine, and another car. The possibilities for cars were endless. Used for parts. Set up at protection. Used as traps. Daryl Dixon the town resident mechanic would have a field day with this car.

“I’m gonna check in with Rick,” Glenn says. You see him playing with his wedding band. Maggie’s baby bump had started to show and Glenn didn’t like being away for too long. Patting his shoulder you speak.

“Go see Maggie and your baby.” You slammed the driver’s side door shut. The dark-haired man stares at you. Willing to argue with you on this.

“Really it’s-” You raised your hand stopping him.

“If you don’t go check up on Maggie. I will and I’ll tell her how you screamed like a girl.” His eyes widen at the threat. 

“I didn’t know a group of bats would be in there!” He defended himself only making you grin at him. You both head away from the parking area. Back towards the stretch of cookie-cutter homes. You nudge his shoulder with yours.

“First it’s a colony of bats. Second, not only was the scream funny, so was your face.” You teased him. Glenn shoved your shoulder playfully. Before mumbling that he was going to check in with his wife. Leaving you with the task of checking in with the community’s newly appointed leader Rick. 

  Jogging onto his porch you knocked on the door. Eyes looking everywhere but the door until it opened. Sadly it wasn’t the male you were looking for. Carl greeted you with a soft smile. The bandages that once covered his right eye socket had been replaced with a custom-made eyepatch.

“Ahoy captain.” You tease the teenager who rolled his remaining eye. “Your dad here? Just checking in since Glenn and I got back.”

“Nope. Haven’t seen him since this morning.” Carl tells you, making you nodded. “When I see him…” He trails off because he knows you will just hunt his dad down. “I don’t know where he is.” He's lying. You know it. He knows that you know. But you just nod and quickly thank him. Tell him to kiss his sister for you before turning off the porch.

  And you're probably with that blonde girl

Who always made me doubt

She's so much older than me

She's everything I'm insecure about

  You know where Rick Grimes is. Feet carrying you down the still blood-stained street. Streets that just weeks ago were covered with the undead. You wave kindly to the people passing by. It is a mix of your group, older residents, and new people. You still feel out of place. Maybe you always will. Maybe you won't. You wonder quietly to yourself. A nice distraction. Because if you thought about where you were going. Where you had to go. You might just break. So you let your mind wander. Let your feet carry you to the destination. Everything seemed to be on autopilot. Until your using the knocker of the baby blue house. Her house.

“We should end this,” Rick says matter-of-factly. You stopped brushing your hair to look at him. He’s not facing you. Back facing you as he pulled his jeans on. 

“What?” Maybe you misheard him. Maybe it was your ear playing a trick on you. Because Rick couldn’t be breaking up with you right now.

“We should break up.” He rephrases. The words take the air from your lungs. Your mouth opened to say words that your mind can’t even come up with. The silence in the room grew by the seconds. It finally became too much for the man as he turned to face you. Jeans zipped up but not buttoned. Belt lay next to his shirt on the bed but his eyes fell on you instead. 

“Say something.” He requested of you softly. That same soft voice that he used when he said he loved you. Tears that formed in your eyes finally fell as you blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Before you looked him in the eyes.

“Is it me? Did I do something wrong?” Getting shot was nothing compared to your question to him. Because he knew you honestly thought you did something wrong. You always doubted yourself. But you were perfect. So goddamn perfect. And amazing. And young. 

“No sweetheart. It’s just…” He stops himself from going over to embrace you. Tell you to forget about it. Because this has to happen. You're 24. His 39. Even if the group. His and your family were ok with it. He heard the whispers around town. The other weren’t as supportive. 

“I think we should end this. We had an amazing run. And you're young. You’re gonna find someone else that will love you more than I ever could.” He breaks his own heart with his words. Because he doesn’t want you to find someone else. He wants to be with you until the end. When and where ever the end was. But you deserve better. You deserve someone around your age. Not an old man with two children like him. 

“I…” you stare at him. Cheeks strained with tears he caused. “I don’t want someone else.” You grab the comforter. It gets balled up as you tighten your grip on the fabric. Your mind running over everything you had done in the last weeks to get to the point. You had snapped at him a few days back because of Jessie Anderson. The blonde woman in her thirties that lived up the street. You didn’t hear what they were talking but her body language told you everything. She was flirting with Rick. And either he didn’t notice or didn’t care. Doubt played in your mind the whole day after seeing the interaction. Because Jessie was around Rick’s age. And you weren’t. You didn’t really have any life experience before the world ended. So it made sense if Rick preferred a woman his own age. As opposed to you, a 24-year-old kid in his eyes.

“I can get you a brownstone to stay in.” He said. Brushing off your comment. Which broke your heart even more.

  The door opened showing the blonde that lived there. A smile and questioning look on her face. 

“Is Rick here?” You asked, watching as she turned her head and yelling the man’s name into the home. He comes out from the kitchen; questioning who it was. The question dying in his throat when he saw it was you. Jessie excused herself leaving you and Rick alone. The former sheriff stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” he gives you a tight-lipped smile. Which you return.

“Just came to tell you Glenn and I are back.”

“Right,” he nods. “You guys went on a run. Get anything good?” You nodded before listing off some of the supplies you got. Including the stick shift car. You heard him chuckle. Looking into his eyes you saw that same playfulness as the day he first forced you to drive a stick. 

“You didn’t flood the engine this time right?” He teased and you scoffed, punching him in the shoulder. 

“I was amazing.” You boasted. The older man stared at you and you swear you heard a quiet. ‘Ya, you are.’ 

“You don’t mind if I asked Glenn?” You roll your eyes but smile.

“Go ahead. He's gonna tell you the same thing.” He nodded. Hand going on his hips. You watch as he licks his lips. Your breath hitching as you feel your stomach twisting in knots. “I should go. Need a shower desperately.” You don’t wait for him to say goodbye or stop you. You're off the porch and down the road heading home in a few steps. 

  And all my friends are tired

Of hearing how much I miss you, but

I kinda feel sorry for them

'Cause they'll never know you the way that I do

  Maggie can’t drink. But that doesn’t mean you and Sasha can’t. Sasha, Abraham, and Rosita had come back later in the day from another run. They had been the unlucky ones not finding much of anything. But Sasha apparently found some top-tier booze in a rundown bar. The trio split it up between them. So here you were. Snacking on fresh strawberries drinking booze that would have been at least $100 for a bottle; straight out of the bottle. The three of you resting against the metal wall that protected the town from the nasty world outside.

“So,” Maggie started as she threw a strawberry stem into a bowl filled with them. “Heard someone talk with Rick.” Sasha and her eyes went to you as you grabbed the glass bottle of auburn liquid. Taking a healthy swig you felt the burn as it went down. You were far too sober to be talking about this. Talking about him. Because no one in the group knew why you guys ended it. Just one day you were a happy couple and the next you were packing up and moving into your own brownstone. Sasha took the bottle from you, making you whine. As you tried to reach for it but the former firefighter held it out of reach. Her hand on your chest also keeping you away from it.

“You can get some when you tell us what happened.” She landed down the rule and it makes you groan as you move to lay against the wall. You don't want to talk about it. You just want to wallow and let the scar form on your heart in peace.

A crack of thunder sends the trio onto the back porch of Maggie’s home. Lucky for you guys because moments after; the dark clouds opened up letting down heavy droplets that ping off the porch’s roof. Sasha is distracted by the rain. Asking Maggie if the crops will be ok. Allowing you to snatch the bottle from her hand and take another big glug. The bottle is half gone now. And honestly so are you. The alcohol works fast as your brain starts to go fuzzy. Sasha takes the bottle back slightly annoyed. But it clear the break-up has been hard. So she lets it go.

“You got your drink.” She says putting the cap back on and sitting it to the side out of your reach. “Now tell us what happened.”

“I don’t know.” You sob. You weren’t normally an emotional drunk. But with everything going on with Rick. Tonight you were. 

  And I know we weren't perfect

But I've never felt this way for no one, oh

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay, now that I'm gone

  Maggie held you as you drunkenly cried. Sasha joined you on the other side, rubbing your back. You finally opened up about your breakup with Rick a month ago. You weren’t sure how much they understood because of the loud rain and your blubbering. But either way, they consoled you. Trying to help the only way they could. And the only way they knew how. Simply being there. Because for a month you kept this end. Kept this to yourself. So those outside of the group saw you were fine. The break-up didn’t seem to affect you. You carried on with work. Talked with Rick when it was needed. You acted fine. 

But the group knew it. Of course, they knew. It was an act. Because they saw how you were breaking. How you had a longing in your eyes when the cowboy boots-wearing man walked by. The smile that rarely reached your lips. You were faking so much of your joy because your heart was broken. 

“I just don’t get how he is so ok. Did I mean nothing?” The two women share a look at your question. Because they also know that Rick isn’t ok. Like you, he is acting. Because he is the leader and can’t break down. But the man isn’t ok. They don’t say that. Rick was the one that ended it. That was on him.

“I don’t know,” Maggie says softly as you rest your head onto her shoulder. “I wish I had the answer for you. But only Rick does.”

  Red lights, stop signs

I still see your face in the white cars, front yards

Can't drive past the places we used to go to

'Cause I still fuckin' love you, babe

  The street lights are now on. It’s still raining when you tell Maggie you were going home. Sasha and her try to get you to stay the night. Or at least until the rain lets up. But the rain isn't letting up. It was so heavy you could barely see a few steps in front of you. But you step off the back porch and disappear down the alleyway of the lined-up homes. You walk. Just walk because you don’t want to go home just yet. If you go home you’ll be lonely. And you don’t want that. Because for a month you have been lonely in that damn brownstone. Rick wasn’t lonely. He was with Jessie. His arms wrapped around her body. Damn your brain. Just because you didn’t want to be lonely didn’t mean you wanted to think about them together. 

  The rain started to ease up as you found yourself passing Rick’s house. The lights upstairs were on. As you quickly looked away from the cookie-cutter home. A shiver ran through you and shoved your hands into your soaked jean pockets. Maybe now was a good time to head home. You haven’t even turned when you heard your name being shouted over the rain. Looking back at Rick’s home you see him rushing off the porch and over to you. His dark brown jacket acting as an umbrella. He puts it mostly over you shielding you from the rain.

“What are you doing out here? You're going to get sick.” He frets because he knows how likely that is. Because after the rainstorm when the group was on the trek through Virginia you had gotten sick. “Come on.” He orders and you walk with him toward his house. 

  Sidewalks we crossed

I still hear your voice in the traffic, we're laughing

Over all the noise

  You smile at him lightly as he places a cup of peppermint tea in your hand; you're favorite. You're in one of his white t-shirt and pajama pants. Your hair, no longer wet from the rain but a hot shower. The alcohol is still in your system. How much you don’t know. 

“What were you doing walking in the rain?” He questioned taking the seat next to you. His own cup of tea in his hand.

“Was drinking with Sasha and Maggie.” You look towards him as his eyebrows knit together as the mention of Maggie and drinking. “Maggie was moderating us. She wasn’t drinking, come on. She knows better.” Rick nods bowing his head because he does know better to think that about Maggie. But his time as a cop taught him that some people just don’t care. Not about themselves. Not about others. And sure as hell not about kids. 

“Where did you get the booze from? Daryl?” You snort at him before blowing on your tea taking a careful sip. Sitting the cup down you look back towards him.

“I ain’t no rat officer.” He chuckles. You both do. A little inside joke between you both. And then the silence fell. The awkward uncertain silence of two people who didn’t know what to say next. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you stare into the tea. Rain still going strong outside, trapping on the roof of your former home.  Rick shifts beside you clearing his throat.

“Judy trying to walk.” It makes you smile a bit. 

“That’s good. Soon she’ll be running over you and Carl.” The older man chuckles nodding in agreement but you don’t see it. Head still bowed. Turning your mug as you watch the tea shift with each motion. 

“Seeing anyone?” He was trying to keep the conversation going. But there had to be another question to ask that wasn’t this. You still answer it by shaking your head.

“No. But you seemed to have moved on.” It has some bite to you. You're bitter. Of course, you are. The man you were in love with. Seemed to easily move on after he ended it. You lift the ceramic mug and take a huge glug of your tea. The warmth fills you but it’s not enough.

“Ya. Jessie, she’s…” He doesn’t know what to say. Jessie is ok. Good to have around. Doesn’t make him feel as empty. But she is just not you. All her touches. All her kisses. They feel off and he knows why. Because the hands touching him aren’t yours. Neither are the lips that kiss him. But Rick is stubborn. Even if it hurts you both, he knows you need better. You deserve the world and he just can’t give it to you.

“She’s perfect.” You looked at him. Sadness, rooted so deeply in your eyes. He wants to pull you into him. Tell you that he is sorry. That he will end it with Jessie. Come back to you. And try to make all of this right. But he already drew his line in the sand and he won’t cross it. Because the moment he touches you he knows it will be his undoing.

“She has her flaws. No one is perfect.” Except for you. He wants to add. He hears a quiet 'ya' then it silence once again.

  God, I'm so blue, know we're through

But I still fuckin' love you, babe

  You were gone when Rick woke up. His clothes lay on the guest bed since you were dried. He wondered just when you left. He wondered if you slept at all. Because he didn’t. Knowing you were in the house but not in his arms. He was restless the whole night. He sighs. Picking clothes up. It was sad that he hoped this wouldn’t be the last time. But it most likely was going to be the only time. Because how often are you going to walk in the rain drunk? He takes the clothes to the laundry room. Before he throws the shirt in the basket he lifts it to his nose. Inhaling the flowery body wash scent from when you shower last night. You must found where he hid the body wash you left behind. 

“Hey, dad!” Carl called out from the kitchen forcing Rick to dump the clothes in the basket. Entering the kitchen he smiled at his son. Judith was already in her high chair waiting for breakfast. Carl stood at the counter. The box of peppermint tea in his hands. Shit. He meant to put that up. Carl’s eye shifts from the box towards the sink. Where the mugs from last night sat unwashed. Then the young man turns to his father.

“Y/n was here wasn’t she?” He questioned but it was really a statement. It is the only reason for this tea to be out with two mugs in the sink.

“Ya,” He replied, moving towards his son and taking the box of tea from his hand. The young man sighed watching his father place the tea on a high shelf so only he could get to it.

“Why?” Carl asked.

“It was raining-”

“No,” he cut his father off. “Why did you break up with her?”

“Carl,” Rick sighed. As he pinched the bridge of his nose. If he didn’t want to have this conversation with Daryl or Michonne. He sure as hell didn’t want it with his son. But like Rick the young survivor was stubborn. He stepped into his father's past every time he tried to move around him.

“Carl,” Rick warns but the boy isn’t back down.

“No. You were happy with Y/n. Happier than I have ever seen you. Even with mom. Even before all of this.” The boy gestures at nothing but Rick knows what he means by that. Because he didn’t want to admit it. But his and Lori’s relationship was at rock bottom before the world ended. 

“So why? What happened?” Carl pressed, making Rick sigh. He wondered. Only for a second. If Michonne had put Carl up to his. But he shook that from his head. Michonne won’t do that. This is purely Carl. Because Carl loves you so much. The both of you had apparently clicked before Rick had gotten to the quarry. And that bond only grew over time. 

“It’s complicated, Carl. Now please,” Rick needed him to down the subject. And the young boy seemed to understand but is still pissed. He turns from his father. Feet carrying the young boy towards the door. “Where are you going?” He called out.

“Out!” And the slamming door let Rick know that Carl was gone. He sighed. 

  He knew everyone would move on. You would. Carl would. He would. In the far future, all of this will be just a bad memory. But right now. In the present, it hurt so fucking bad. Tears leaked from his eyes as he sucked in air. He did it to himself. He deserved this pain. And if he could he would take your pain. Allow you to be happy. To find love in someone else better than him. Because you're one of the good things in this ugly world. 

  I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one

[h0tchner]

Any Age, Any Day, Anywhere (Part 1) - aaron hotchner x fem!reader

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: WRITTEN FOR AN ANON REQUEST: "ok hi so u already wrote a jealous reader and was wondering whats your take on jealous hotch? i mostly see him in fics as possessive and yeah being the leader type i would think he could also be possessive but i also think that he would just be sad like ya know he doubts himself as we saw in some episodes and i think he would need assurance and a lot of convincing that u only love him but if you’ve given that to him then thats the time he would be possessive and god i would love to imagine a possessive and feral aaron hotchner"

word count: 3.5k

includes: kissing, so much freaking adorable fluff, talk of body insecurities, insecure!hotch, protective!hotch, wifey reader, super brief mentions of pregnancy, alcohol, confrontation with a drunk asshole (derek & hotch are all over it tho dw), party at papa rossi's!, smut to come in next chapter...

rating: 18+ (technically there is no smut in this part, but there are adult themes such as drinking, kissing, etc.).

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! This is part one of a two-part fic! The next part will be pure filth, so keep your eyes peeled for some feral hotch content... ALSO! PLS (!!!!!!!!!!!) interact if you liked this, rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

“Aaron! Can you come here for a sec?” you call out to your husband from the bathroom, muttering curses under your breath as you try (and fail) for the third time to zip up the back of your black cocktail dress.

“Sure, I just need a minute,” he replies from the bedroom closet, securing the last opalescent button on the arm of his white dress shirt. He looks at himself in the closet mirror, zeroing in at the bags under his eyes and the sprinkling of grey in his stubble. He looks… tired. Tired and old. And he hates it.

Even though Aaron is only in his late-40s, he has lived lifetimes; years of working as Unit Chief of the BAU will do that to a man. Every horror he’s seen and every person he’s lost has weighed on his body and mind. In the past few months, amidst work changes and a new baby, he’s been exhausted and in fear that he’s letting himself go. Of course, being the stoic man that he is, he’s done his absolute best to hide these feelings from you. Tonight, however, he doesn’t know if he can. It’ll be your first night out together as a couple since welcoming baby girl Hotchner to the family four months ago. With no pressing family or work distractions, he just knows that you’ll be able to sense his apprehensions. It’s only a matter of when.

Taking in a breath, he turns a little to the side, frowning at his profile. Aaron winces a little at his “dad bod,” but quickly recovers from the discomfort, milliseconds after it flashes across his face.

“Aaron Hotchner get your handsome butt in here and help me zip my dress! We’re gonna be late,” you exclaim, trying one last time to reach the zipper before giving up and crossing your arms in defeat. You lean back lightly against the countertop facing the door, letting the fabric slip off your shoulders, and wait for your husband to rescue you from the hell that is this dress.

At the sound of your voice, Aaron snaps out of his trance. He shakes his head lightly, as if to physically erase the intrusive thoughts, and clears his throat. Grabbing his suit jacket off the hanger, he flicks off the closet light and closes the door behind him.

Languidly, he meanders from the closet toward the bathroom. He drags his feet a little longer than he normally would, still feeling off and a little bit shy about his appearance.

“Aaron,” you sing, “I’m waiting for –,” your jaw drops mid-sentence when Aaron appears in the doorway.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe out before you can stop yourself, eyes widening at the sight of the gorgeous man in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, crossing over to you, searching your face for any ounce of reprieve.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong,” you’re quick to reply, standing from your leaning position to meet him, holding out your hands.

He takes them in his own, cocking his head slightly, his soft hazel eyes boring into yours.

You shift forward, moving up on your toes to peck his soft pink lips.

He sighs into the kiss, feeling the warmth of your lips against his own. It feels so good that it almost makes him forget about how he is feeling… almost. But the dark thoughts come back, and he pulls away from you a bit, reluctantly.

Aaron clears his throat.

“You called me?” He questions, but it sounds more like a fact.

“Yeah,” you give his hands a squeeze. “I needed you to zip up my dress, but now,” you lean in again, “I kinda want you to rip it off me.” You offer him a sultry smirk, moving your hands up to rest on his broad chest. He moves his hands to settle on your hips.

You lick your lips and let your eyes rake over his body, taking in every ounce of his sexy frame. The way his crisp, white dress shirt hugs his solid body makes you go weak in the knees. His strong, toned legs in those black dress pants? Yes please. His soft black hair and salt and pepper stubble on his face are practically begging to be touched. He looks good. Damn good.

“You look…” you pause, tapping a finger lightly against his pectoral, searching for the right word, “…delicious.”

Aaron blushes lightly at your ogling, offering you a sad smile as he squeezes his eyes shut out of embarrassment.

You sense the falter in his demeanor, knowing that there’s something else nagging at him far beyond his usual flustering when you vocalize your attraction to him.

“Honey,” you implore, looping your hands around his neck to bring his forehead down to touch yours. “What’s going on in that big, beautiful brain of yours?”

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, swallowing, rubbing soft circles into your sides.

“It’s something,” you counter, carding a hand through his hair at the nape of his neck. You scratch lightly at his scalp, waiting for him to speak. You’ve learned that the best thing to do when Aaron gets in a mood is to give him some time to gather his thoughts. Keeping him close, physically, is a way to show him some comfort without pressuring him to speak. It encourages him, without words, that your arms are a safe place.

“I don’t…” he starts, and then stops himself. His dark eyebrows furrow and his mouth presses into a thin line.

“Mhm?” you question, fingers still tangled in his thick, black locks.

He pulls his forehead away from yours and locks eyes with you. You let your hands be still now, a silent gesture to show him that you’re listening.

He takes in a breath.

“I don’t look the way I used to,” he says quietly, shifting his eyes away from yours.

“What do you mean,” you urge him to continue.

“I mean, I don’t look like I did five years ago. Two years ago. Four months ago. I mean, I was practically a different man when we first met. I was younger, fitter…” he trails off, visibly upset.

“Yes, Aaron, you were,” you agree, keeping your tone temperate.

His eyes snap to yours, confused. It’s clear that was not what he was expecting you to say.

“You were a different man,” you continue gently, resuming your pacifying touch in his hair, “and I was a different woman.”

Aaron lets out a huff.

“Do you love me any less now than you did five years ago?” You ask him.

“Of course not,” he’s quick to answer.

“Why is that?” You prod.

“You’re gorgeous, inside and out. You’re funny, smart, loving…” he begins, but you interrupt him before he can go on.

“And,” you butt in, “if I were to go completely grey, gain thirty pounds, and only wear a potato sack to work every day would you love me any less?”

Aaron huffs again, but this time he’s fighting a smile. He’s starting to catch on. You watch as a spark of levity returns to his eyes. He holds you a little tighter.

“No. There’s nothing you could do or say to make me love you any less,” he grumbles in annoyance, but his upturned lip and matching eyebrow tell a different story.

“Ditto, baby,” you smile up at him. “I love you at any age, any day, anywhere, and there is nothing in the world that can make me change my mind.”

He dips down then, capturing you in a kiss, grinning against your lips.

You giggle as Aaron works his way down your jawline and neck, gasping as he kisses the soft skin at the junction of your neck and shoulder, thick fingers gripping the sides of your hips. He moves his lips back up to your earlobe, nipping at it lightly as you let out another soft gasp.

“You always know the right thing to say,” he whispers into your ear, pressing another kiss right underneath it.

“Aaron, I know I said I wanted you to take this dress off me,” you say breathlessly as Aaron nips at your shoulder again, “but Rossi will kill us if we don’t show up tonight. Plus, I really want the chance to show off my super sexy FBI husband. It’s been far too long.”

He lets out a low groan into your skin and gives your hips a squeeze, nuzzling his head into your neck.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “you’re right.”

“Aren’t I always,” you snort, eliciting a chuckle from your husband as you turn around in his arms to let him zip you up.

He takes his time, letting his fingers brush lightly over your spine as he draws the zipper over your back. When he’s done and the clasp is latched, he kisses one shoulder lightly, and then the other.

“Thank you,” you whisper, leaning back against his warm body.

“No, honey,” he kisses the top of your head, “thank you.”

_____________________________________________________________

By the time you and Aaron arrive at Rossi’s mansion, the party is already in full swing. Judging by the number of cars in the makeshift parking lot on his spacious front lawn, there must be at least fifty, maybe even a hundred people here.

Despite the bustle of the evening, it doesn’t take long for you two to find Emily, Penelope, and Derek in the living room, drinks in hand, snacking on some very expensive looking food.

“Hey, look! It’s the Hotchners!” Emily cheers, teetering on the arm of the leather couch, wine glass in hand.

“Hello beautiful BAU power-couple!” Penelope chimes in from the seat next to her, cuddled up into Derek’s side.

You laugh and let go of Aaron’s hand, walking over to greet your friends.

“Hey hot stuff, look at you, look at you!” Derek chimes in, eyeing you up and down before standing to shake Aaron’s hand.

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes at him as you give Emily a big hug.

“And you don’t look bad yourself, boss man!” Derek adds.

You shoot your husband an ‘I told you so’ look over your shoulder, before untangling your arms from Emily and giving Penelope an equally enthusiastic squeeze.

“It’s good to see you all,” Aaron smiles lightly, all dimples in the low light. He steps in to give Emily and Penelope soft hugs.

“Let’s go get you a drink,” Derek says to Aaron, clapping him on the back.

“White?” Aaron looks to you, even though he already knows the answer.

“Yes please,” you respond, “thank you.”

“Be back soon,” he smiles easily, kissing your cheek, making your heart ache.

Aaron and Derek turn and exit the room together.

Penelope drunkenly pats the seat next to her, and you plop down on the couch.

“We’ve missed you like this!” Emily exclaims, gesturing between the three of you and around the room. “I can’t believe we’ve had to wait nine whole months plusanother four just to have a drink with our best friend again.”

You laugh at her, tilting your head back lightly. “Well, you guys got a beautiful little niece out of it, doesn’t that make up for all the wild girl’s nights I missed?”

Emily sighs, dramatically, “I guess so,” she jests.

“Oh, for sure.” Penelope adds. “You look freaking gorgeous, by the way. I mean, I would have never guessed you were creating a tiny human in that body only a few months ago!”

You blush lightly at her words, “You flatter me far too much, Pen. I owe this,” you gesture down at your figure, “all to Spanx!”

“Amen!” Emily toasts. You raise an imaginary glass to theirs and pretend to clink, taking a swig of invisible liquid.

“Are J.J. and Will here?” You ask them after they’ve had a few more sips of their wine.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emily nods, “they’re around somewhere.”

You take a moment and look around the room, taking in all the sights and the sounds of the party. You see some faces you recognize from around the bureau, but others you don’t. Just as you’re about to turn back to your friends, someone catches your eye. One face stands out from the crowd: he’s a young, suave-looking man in a sharp navy suit. Sandy hair perfectly gelled, shiny brown loafers, and bright blue eyes looking right at you. In another life you would have been exhilarated by his attention, apparent charm, and good looks, but now? Now, you’re married to the love of your life with an amazing stepson and a wonderful baby girl. His wolfish gaze means absolutely nothing to you. You simply flash him a curt smile and turn back to Emily and Penelope without a second thought.

You and your friends resume your chatter, waiting for the men to return with more drinks... only they don’t. Perhaps its “new mother anxiety” talking, but the longer your husband is gone, the more you start to grow concerned. A few more minutes pass of antics, laughter, and catching up until the nagging voice in the back of your head turns into an all-out scream. All you know is that you’re suddenly feeling very overwhelmed need to be with Aaron. So, you announce to your friends that you’re going to hunt down Derek and your husband.

You stand from the couch and smooth out the skirt of your dress with the promise to be back in a few minutes.

You walk out of the living room and into the grand foyer, following the same route as Aaron had earlier. Your black kitten heels click on the marble flooring, the skirt of your dress swishing lightly as you walk with purpose towards the kitchen. You’re so concentrated on reaching your destination that you don’t realize the man who had been watching you in the living room was now hot at your heels, following you through the house. It’s only when a hand reaches out and jerks your arm backward that you stop, startled, just past the grand staircase, turning face to face with him.

“You’re not an easy woman to get alone,” he smirks, reeking of alcohol, still gripping your arm, tight. Up close he is decidedly not as handsome as the low light of the living room made him seem. In fact, he seems… creepy. Really, really, really, creepy.

“Can I help you?” You blink at him, pulling your arm out of his vice grip.

“You sure can, baby,” he steps closer to you, voice oozing with sleaze. You gag at the liquor on his breath.

Moving away, you scowl at him, crossing your arms across your chest.

“What’s say you and I head upstairs for a little while? I’m dying to get my hands on your body.” He jerks his head toward the staircase, reaching out to grab your arm again.

You’re fuming at this point, ready give him a piece of your mind when a stern voice beats you to it.

“Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing?” Aaron articulates, approaching you both with Derek not far behind.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your husband glares at the drunken man vengefully, coming to stand by your side. Aaron pulls you into him, roughly, hand tight around your waist. The anger radiating off your husband is equally terrifying and HOT.

“Take a walk, man,” Derek adds in, coming to stand next to the drunken asshole. The man looks from you, to Aaron, then over to Derek, and finally back at you.

“Whatever,” the man grumbles, putting his hands up, “she’s not worth it anyway. Not pretty enough for the hassle. I just thought she looked like an easy lay.”

“That’s enough,” Aaron snaps, seething. “Leave now, before I make you,” your husband growls. He angles his body forward so you’re slightly behind him. A shiver passes through you at his fierce protectiveness.

“Fine, I’m going to get another drink,” the man utters.

“No,” Aaron interjects, “the party. Leave the party or I’ll have you removed.”

“What’s your problem?” The creepy man retorts, this time, more confrontationally.

“My problem?” Aaron says, angrily. You feel his entire body tense at the accusation.

“Hotch,” Derek warns, “I’ll take care of it. You guys go enjoy yourselves. Forget about him.”

“Come on, Aaron,” you tug on his suit jacket lightly, eyes pleading… but Aaron doesn’t budge from his spot. He only holds you tighter as he continues to stare down the man as Derek ushers him away and towards the front door. He doesn’t falter until they are out of sight.

“Aaron?” You repeat.

He looks down at you, finally, blinking away the fury until all that’s left is an all-consuming love. He releases you from his protective hold, and you face him.

“I’m okay,” you assure him in earnest, letting out a shaky breath.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he breathes, bringing his hands up to cup your face.

“Aaron, it’s okay, really,” you bite your lip, shifting your eyes away from his.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron kisses your forehead, and then the top of your head. “So, so beautiful, and I’m so sorry.”

“Aaron, can we just go home?” You ask.

“Sure,” he kisses your head one last time before weaving his fingers between yours and guiding you gently toward the back exit.

_____________________________________________________________

The car ride home is quiet. The only sounds are the occasional click of the turn signal, and the hum of the wheels on the road. Aaron is still upset, and so are you, but you’re also… something else. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. You feel guilty for ruining the evening, guilty that you FEEL guilty for something you had no control over, hungry, tired, and… horny? Oh, and guilty for feeling horny.

It isn’t helping that one of Aaron’s hands is planted firmly on your thigh. He lifts it only to adjust the air conditioning or to scratch his nose, but otherwise it remains on you the whole way home. When he pulls into the driveway of your shared house, and shuts the car off, he still doesn’t move it.

“Honey?” You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are closed. You take in the strong features of his profile, noting the prominence of his nose and the way his eyelashes rest on his high cheekbones.

“I almost punched him.” Aaron whispers, opening his eyes to look over at you sheepishly.

“You what,” you exhale, mouth slightly agape.

“That guy,” he continues, bringing his left hand up to pinch his nose. “I almost punched him for saying that about you.”

You snort, amused by his confession.

Your husband lets out a short laugh, squeezing your thigh as he does.

“I would’ve liked to see that.” You’re grinning now and so is he.

He flashes his eyes at you and laughs again, this time less anxiously. You join him, feeling the tension dissipate with every passing moment.

“My big, bad FBI man decking a barely-legal drunk dickhead for making a move on his wife? Where can I get my tickets?” You joke.

As you say the words “his wife,” Aaron’s breath hitches in his throat. His hand on your thigh presses down instinctively. Neither of his reactions go unnoticed.

You lay a hand over his where it rests on your leg.

“You know, Aaron,” you begin.

He looks over at you, jaw tight, but this time it isn’t from anger.

“This is the first time we’ve had the house all to ourselves in months,” you pull his hand off you and bring it up to your lips. You press a kiss to his palm, and then to his wrist.

“This… is true,” he breathes out, studying you, taking you in.

“So, I’m just wondering:” you grin, linking your fingers with his, “are you going to carry your wife into our house, Aaron? Or do I have to walk myself?”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: what if jc was lxc's age (and jyl maybe 2 or 3 years older) and wwx was lwj's/nhs' age when he was brought to lotus pier? (Or anything that involves a much bigger age gap bw the jiang sibs and wwx - where wwx is babey)

Untamed

“You know what,” Jiang Cheng said to his sister, who looked at him. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not marrying a woman.”

Jiang Yanli’s lips started twitching uncontrollably and she hid her smile behind her sleeve. “Oh?”

“Nope. I’m going to marry Chifeng-zun.”

“On the basis of…?”

“If you take two adult men in charge of two Great Sects,” Jiang Cheng said, doing his utmost best to keep a straight face, “with all the power we can generate between us, we might – maybe – have a chance at disciplining our baby brothers.”

Jiang Yanli burst out laughing.

“There, there. It’s all right,” he said, grinning, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. “You can join us if you’d like. There’s enough room in Qinghe for two wives.”

“We are not both running away to Qinghe,” she said, giggling. “A-Cheng!”

“What? I think it’s a great idea. If our parents want us back, they can negotiate with Chifeng-zun for it – may they have more luck than they had with the whole medicinal herb debacle.”

“A-Cheng, I am officially tabling this idea,” Jiang Yanli said, still snorting. “Older sibling privilege.”

“I let you out of the womb first as a matter of courtesy,” Jiang Cheng sniffed. “And now you use it against me? A-Li, how could you?”

“Call me jiejie! It doesn’t matter how much older, a few shichen or a few years, older is still older.”

“You probably elbowed me with those sharp pointy things you have on your arms. Weapons of war.”

“Older is older!” she sang. “Now tell me, what did A-Xian do this time?”

“Would you like it in chronological order, or in order of severity? I can also group it by theme, if you prefer.”

“Oh no,” Jiang Yanli said, covering her eyes. “Oh no.”

“And the chief-most theme,” Jiang Cheng said, continuing anyway, “is still called Lan Wangji.”

“Oh no!”

“He has the worst crush,” Jiang Cheng said, shaking his head with endless amusement. “And he just – refuses to admit it. ‘Nooooo, shixiong, we’re just friends, he can’t even stand me most of the time, he’s always trying to get me in trouble, but sometimes he lets me sit next to him and spend time with him and he’s so handsome and I really just want to make him laugh –’”

“We have,” Jiang Yanli said thoughtfully, “raised an idiot.”

“He was fine when we got him,” Jiang Cheng disagreed. “We have spoiled an idiot.”

“This is true. Maybe we should go form a mutual complaining society with Chifeng-zun; isn’t his little brother also an idiot?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Jiang Cheng said. “Worse: they’ve teamed up. Nie Huaisang buys Wei Wuxian porn now.”

“Oh no…”

“In return for help cheating on his tests!”

“Oh no!”

“So that’s why I’m going to marry Chifeng-zun,” Jiang Cheng concluded. “Our parents may be disappointed by my decision, but with our powers combined, we might be able to save the world from our respective younger idiots.”

“Maybe,” she said, and shook her head. “A-Cheng – about our parents…”

Jiang Cheng shook his head as well, echoing her action but more in denial. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that she took after their father and he took after their mother, that she was born a shichen prior to midnight and he a shichen after and their personalities completely different as a result; it was no one’s fault that their parents didn’t get along, with their mother disdaining what she perceived as Jiang Yanli’s passiveness and lack of passion and their father despising Jiang Cheng’ prickly temper and difficulty communicating his affection without scolding.

It certainly wasn’t Wei Wuxian’s fault for being younger and more brilliant, talented at everything he did and with just the sort of personality their father liked best – the combination of his former best friend and the girl he’d once thought of marrying – and that he’d always made that preference very clear to everyone, even to their mother who often worried that her husband would dispossess her children in favor of his foundling and who lashed out at everyone in response.

That had hurt – hurt a lot, even, and Jiang Cheng was soft and sensitive underneath all his defensive layers, but any time he got angry over it he would look at Wei Wuxian, their little A-Xian, baby Xianxian, who adored his older siblings more than anything and was adored in return, and he forced himself to get over it. He was old enough, by the time Wei Wuxian arrived, to know to whom the blame really belonged.

“I spoke with Nie Huaisang while I was at the Cloud Recesses,” Jiang Cheng said in an undertone, one reserved just for his sister. “He’s asked me to pass along a message to his brother, the next time I go night-hunting, about the whole debacle – he’s so terribly apologetic, you understand, he couldn’t wait for the post – if we get to Qinghe by tomorrow, Chifeng-zun will be able to get to Gusu in time to intervene before our father does something wretched like cancel your engagement and take A-Xian home early from his studies.”

“The engagement I wouldn’t mind,” she remarked. “If Jin Zixuan feels so strongly about it that he’d get into a fistfight with A-Xian, it’s better not to marry, no matter what our mother might think. But on no account is A-Xian to be sent home early! He needs his education!”

Unsaid was everything else he needed, things he could get better at the Cloud Recesses than anywhere else.

“Then we go?”

“We go,” she agreed. Between the two of them, Jiang Cheng had more talent at cultivation, but she was steadier, even in her overall mediocrity: when the two of them flew on a sword together, they could make it much further and faster than anyone expected.

Qinghe wasn’t really close enough for a quick jaunt – they flew all night without stopping – but Chifeng-zun was amendable to their scheme, jumping at once onto his saber and making his way straight to Gusu. A waste of spiritual energy all around, really, but far faster than their father would move, with his Sect Leader’s dignity and retinue, rushing to the Cloud Recesses to save his precious little Wei Wuxian from having any connections in life that weren’t to the Jiang sect, and the Jiang sect alone. 

And never mind how much he needed those connections: needed to have friends his own age, needed to have more time with that crush of his, needed independence and freedom and everything the Jiang sect supposedly stood for - needed for them to support him and act as the foundation beneath his feet, rather than the chains tying him down to earth.

Chifeng-zun – who was only a few years older than they were – was really a very understanding person, getting the problem at once and immediately agreeing with their view on things. Perhaps there really was something to be said about the difference in generations…

“Let me show you to rooms where you can rest,” Chifeng-zun’s aide said, a slender young man with a polite smile on his face as he saluted. “I’ll arrange for refreshments as well.”

“We hate to trouble you, but in all honesty you are a lifesaver,” Jiang Yanli said to him warmly, and he unexpectedly flushed red at the cheeks. “A-Cheng, let’s follow this handsome young man and rest a while before we return to the Lotus Pier.”

The young man was blushing.

“What’s your name?” Jiang Cheng asked, and the blush faded away at once as the man paled a little: it would be one he expected them to recognize, then, and not in a good way.

“This one is Meng Yao,” he said, and saluted again even though he’d already saluted once before, and Jiang Yanli’s eyes flickered to Jiang Cheng’s very briefly before she caught his arms and raised him up.

“I’ve heard of you. Smart and talented enough to get Chifeng-zun’s attention, even so far as becoming his personal deputy - you must be brilliant. Truly, you deserve a better father,” she told him, and he stared up at her, dumbstruck.

“Don’t mind her,” Jiang Cheng said. “She’s trying out this new thing in which she says everything she feels without thinking first.”

She elbowed him. “And isn’t it your fault?” she asked snappishly. “You’re the one who needs to speak your mind more; I’m just modeling good behavior!”

If she’d been older than him – really older, rather than just a few shichen – maybe she would have held her tongue more and played the role of the peacekeeper, trying to protect him from his father’s indifference the way she had tried to when they were both younger, just as he had tried to distract his mother from her with his hard-fought accomplishments. It wasn’t until they had little Wei Wuxian to spoil and care for, a joint task that required both of their attention, that they realized that splitting their forces like that was pointless and self-defeating: it wasn’t actually helping that Jiang Yanli suppressed so much of her spirit until she felt like little more than a reflective mirror with no content, nor that Jiang Cheng nearly worked himself to death trying to prove that he was worthy of his father’s love and respect that he would never receive, and it never would.

So they stopped.

They were trying very hard to stop, anyway.

“You’re very kind,” Meng Yao murmured, and led them to their rooms.

The moment he closed the door behind him, Jiang Yanli turned to Jiang Cheng and said, “I’ve changed my mind about your plan – we can run away to Qinghe. You marry Chifeng-zun, and I’ll marry that charming boy out there.”

There was an audible thudding sound from the corridor outside, as if someone had accidentally walked into a wall, and they both grinned at each other.

“Mother would kill you,” he warned her in an undertone.

“And being married to someone who disdains me enough to fight over my worthlessness in public wouldn’t?” she retorted, smiling even though her expression was tinged with pain: if she had one ambition in life, it was to never become their mother. “The marriage agreement might have been forged by our mothers, but the text of it says ‘the Jin sect leader’s son to the Jiang sect leader’s daughter’. Why can’t I marry him?”

“He hasn’t been acknowledged.”

“Only technically. Everyone knows he’s the real deal, or else his father wouldn’t have made such a fuss about it.”

“But –”

“Anyway, he must be a good man, or Chifeng-zun wouldn’t have promoted him.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jiang Cheng said. “Chifeng-zun doesn’t have the sense of self-preservation the heavens bestowed on a lemming.”

There was a vaguely audible snort from outside their door. It seemed Meng Yao, at least, had the good sense not to leave guests in his house unattended, and no discrimination against the very useful business of listening at doors.

He also had a sense of humor, which was good given Jiang Yanli’s newfound ambitions in his regard.

“Yes, well, I wasn’t saying I’d elope with him tomorrow or anything,” she sniffed, eyes dancing. “Give him some time to prove himself to me.”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but smile back. “That’s true,” he said, raising his voice a little. “At Chifeng-zun’s side, he’ll be able to make a name for himself until the whispers all say that his father was an idiot for keeping him away.”

“And if even that doesn’t work, I’ll marry him in and make him help me run the Jiang sect,” she said cheerfully. “Who needs Lanling Jin?”

“Wait, since when are you inheriting the Jiang sect?”

“I’m older! And anyway, aren’t you marrying Chifeng-zun? That means you’ll be away helping run his sect, and that leaves an opening at home for me.”

“…huh. Good point.”

“Maybe you can just swap places with Meng Yao,” she said, starting to giggle again. “And we can all see how long it takes anyone to notice…”

“Our parents might not,” Jiang Cheng said dryly. “But Chifeng-zun would. If only because I have my sights set on his bed, and I don’t think Meng Yao does.”

“You don’t know that; everyone wants Chifeng-zun. Maybe you have competition.”

“Better to have competition than be oblivious. Do you want to hear the whole story about A-Xian and Lan Wangji’s tragic mutual pining disaster? Xichen-xiong told me all the details he’s been leaving out of his letters.”

“Tell me everything!”

[traegics]

There's a fleeting scoff followed by a dark chuckle as cerulean hues rolled and at this point she wasn't sure if she felt much of anything except annoyance and anger the longer she remained in the conversation. "Who they wanted me to be," Everleigh counters questioningly, tone dark and sharp as she shakes her head. "They created what I am today, yes, but I am not who they wanted me to be. I am their worst nightmare, was their worst nightmare, especially the day they died because that-" She laughs coldly, pushing off the table as her hands brushed back into blonde locks. "I killed them," the witch continues. "Because they threatened my husband, they threatened to cut me off from the coven, from you, from my daughter. Don't play fucking victim here, Sabrina. It's not a good look. I'm not perfect and pristine to any of them, I am a force, a leader, someone that has the motivation to do anything to protect them and they respect that so why can't you? You don't think I still feel the guilt? You think what I have to do doesn't have any affect on my soul? It's not about me being a killer, if there was any other way I'd do it but there's not. Open your eyes and grow up, Sabie. This is life, this is how it works." Digits drop back to the table, gently this time as she leans forward, forcing their gazes to meet. "Everyone that we sacrificed went into the prison world," she adds. "Each and every one of them is stronger and feeling more power in their veins than ever before. We needed them, we needed their strength and power, we needed their anger. The Mikaelson's will not turn their backs on me because I have made them a promise that I will not break. I am not their enemy. They need me just as much as I need them and I actually happen to care for Briggs and Billie and trust them actually. More than I trust you. I trust the Mikaelson's because they would do anything for their family, for their loved ones just as I am doing. That's the one thing that I admire most about Klaus Mikaelson. The length's that he would go for his siblings, for his daughter, are limitless."

She'll release another soft sigh, eyes closing for a moment as her head drops and she shakes her head once more. "There's one final spell left to do but it requires parts of each creature," Everleigh breathes softly. "It will be the down fall of their entire organization though and then we can build the government that we need to create a peaceful world for all of us." Ocean hues roll again as she pushes off the table again, arms crossing over her chest. "You've made your decision," the older Lewis sister stated, lack of emotion in her tone as her eyes divert anywhere but her sister. "Now you have to live with the consequences just as I have to live with the consequences of the things that I have done. It is what it is." Eventually a heavy exhale of breathe leaves the blonde's lips as she slowly lowers herself back down into the booth across from her sister, her eyes searching for her sisters as she remains quiet a moment. "They killed Ezra," Everleigh admits openly to the other, desperation in her gaze as if trying to get Sabrina to understand. "Our parents, he was just a boy. He was barely 17 but because I loved him and he was a wolf they had to get rid of him, you know what they were like, how they despised anyone that wasn't human or witch, how they didn't want their bloodlines tainted. Then I met Dex a couple of years later and I fell so madly in love with him when I found out he was a wolf, I couldn't tell any of you, he was my secret as you now know since we married but before that... I don't know if you remember, you were 11 and I was 17. Do you remember those 9 months when mom and I went to live with gram and gramps? Said it was cause gram was sick and gramps needed our help? I was pregnant Sabrina, with Dex's baby. I had to protect Marni from them finding out what she was, what was in her blood. I broke up with Dex and let our parents raise my- our daughter because it was what would keep her safe. I told them it was a stupid fling with some guy from another coven that was visiting New Orleans and that he didn't know about the baby before he left town. Then I met Dex again a few months after we got back from grams and gramps and I started seeing him again and eventually we got married and I thought- God, I stupidly thought that they'd maybe have a change of heart if they saw how happy I was with him, how good he was to me but they threatened to kill him like they did Ezra, threatened to cut me off from the coven, from you, from Marni and I couldn't- All of this has been to protect Marni and you. To create a better, safer, more peaceful world for the both of you, for all of the supernaturals. To live amongst each other with mutual respect and understanding, in harmony with one another. Nothing I have done was meant to hurt hurt either of you and I'm sorry that it has. I really am, Sabie, but I had to do what I had to do. For my daughter. I truly believe that this system I am building will work- for all of us. It's the only thing nobody has tried. I have to believe that this will work even if nobody else does because my daughter deserves the world that I am trying to build."

Her gaze diverts again as a hand rises, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I can answer any questions that you have," the witch insists. "All you had to do was ask them. I don't want to keep things from you. Keeping Marni a secret from everyone has been so hard but her safety was the most important thing. Other than that I've always been an open book with you." A hand moves hesitantly before placing gently atop her younger sisters as her eyes sought Sabrina's again. "Pain is inevitable," Everleigh offers softly. "And sometimes saving someone means causing another pain. And saving an entire world of supernaturals... That's going to come with sacrifice whether we like it or not." There's a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips that disappears just as suddenly as it appears, head shaking softly. "All I ever wanted for you and Marni, even Henrik, was to keep you all safe and happy," she insists. "The oea will continue to kill us until not a single one is left. If I have to choose between sacrificing a few people and watching all of us, watching you, Henrik, Dex, Marni, be killed by these people? I'd take sacrificing a few people any fucking day. There's nothing that would ever change my mind on that."

she just listened, maybe this is what was meant to happen to them, maybe life had decided that the pair had to part ways. that they had to see each other as more of an enemy than friends. “maybe you are right, maybe I am a coward, maybe I should’ve grown up and became a fighter but that would have never been me.” no emotion in her tone, hands wiping her tears away from her eyes. maybe, just maybe life wanted to make them enemies from now on. she just listened, taking in ever word that her sister had to say and this is why everleigh was always going to be the leader, she could do everything that had to be done, she wasn’t soft in the head, a disappointment like Sabrina was. “you are perfect, perfect in your own way, in the way they wanted you to be. maybe they knew that mind if yours would go on to do some amazing things. you are perfect and pristine in the covens eyes because you will do what’s needed. I’m not, i’m not the perfect one and I’m not trying to make you a a villain, you never will be one in my eyes…I just cannot do what’s expected of me. you, sister, will always be perfect in my eyes and maybe if i was more like you, had a killer instinct or..I don’t know, a way to close of the guilt then I would’ve stayed.” all the maybes running through her mind,. she was broken and she knew that their parents would be looking down on sabrina with disgust because she had chosen the side with the monsters rather than her own sister. “and i know I’m naive and stupid and yes there would be blood but i cant just shut off who I am, my feelings. it ate me up everyone I helped sacrificed, felt like my soul was breaking each time and i had to stop, had to become me. to stop that guilt from drowning me. i can now look in the mirror and feel..somewhat normal. And yes, you may have the Mikaelsons on side right now, but how long until they turn their back on you? We know they can’t all be trusted, the only one I would probably trust is henrik but then again, he grew up with us and maybe some of the kids but the oldies…don’t trust them.” sabrina warned, although she knew her sister was the smart one. the slamming of palms against the table made Sabrina jump in her seat. “i know she’s not stupid, I know she will make an excellent leader, I think our parents knew that and it’s why the focused so much on you two..maybe they somehow predicted all of this.” Maybe it was why they allowed her to be so soft.

eyes looking at her hands, inhale ong and exhaling deep breaths as she tried to fight the waves of emotions from taking over her. she never wanted to be on the other side, against her sister. “well, I’m glad you’ve thought of that at least.” a brief pause for a moment. “and I never wanted to know the plan because i knew there would be some more killing involved because there is, right? death is always needed… and maybe I didn’t want to know because i always knew that I would agree with it or would end up leaving your side and i then wouldn’t be able to spill your plan to anyone..I guess I was protecting you on my own stupid way.” a long pause, eyes looking at her hands, avoiding the eye contact with her sister. “look..you are not a bad guy…I know it seems like it…but maybe I’m the broken one, too soft for all of this and maybe I’m the bitch in all of this but everleigh, please don’t say things that were spoken in heat because anger always brings out the worse and i always say what I don’t mean…” eyes looking up at everleigh for a moment before they went back to look at her own palms. she knew this was breaking her sister…she could feel herself breaking with each millisecond that passed. “and maybe I don’t know what you’ve been through and maybe I never will..and maybe that had shaped you out to be like this, ruthless but intelligent, smart and methodical but those sacrificed..some were innocent and done nothing wrong and while you say that they are hero’s…they may not see that because they lost so much and coming back from the dead isn’t as easy as it being hand holding and back to normal again..” she remarked, hands wiping the last few tears that had fallen. “and I don’t know this system you are running or thinking of and maybe I shouldn’t think that you are doing it for personal gain but from where I’m sitting it does feel like that…maybe it’s the way mom and dad always said we were the ruling supernaturals and that the witches were the only ones that live or maybe I am just so stupid…but these system…are you really expecting people to accept it. do you truly think it would work because I’m not sure..” she trailed off, eyes settling on everleigh. all she wanted to do was hug her but they were on different sides of this war and to gross the line would cause more issues than anything else.

“and I am listening, I’m trying to listen but maybe I don’t fully get the picture and maybe I’m the fucking stupid one for having more questions than answer and I do not fucking see you as this big villain! You are the on insisting that I do. I love you everleigh and I hate that this has come between us that my emotions broke me and made me turn my back on the coven but I have and I always will love you. You are a fucking strong woman, braver than us all and maybe I do fear that this bravery will get you killed.” her own hands wanting to reach out for her sisters although she was too scared too. she didn’t wanted to do anything more to upset her. maybe Sabrina was the villain of this story, maybe she had been the villain all along for turning her back on her family for her best friend. “and I never meant it like that, you’ve taken my words and twisted them. You are not a bitch and from anyone they would feel like you are trying to play god, I’ve never said you have had a god complex..I just..I’m the one in the wrong, clearly I have a hero’s complex because I want to try and save the world from more pain and yet here I am in the wrong.” hands grabbing hold of everleigh’s, giving them a squeeze, knowing she was probably in the wrong for doing so. “and i am so grateful for everything you have done for me and marni as without you we wouldn’t be alive and I’m grateful that you helped raised us all to be strong women and what you’ve done..I care about so much and you will never know what it means to me. You kept us alive and maybe I’m awful at showing my thanks..but my emotions do get the best of me..maybe I like people to much that my heart breaks when they get hurt and maybe that is why I turned my back on your and marni. maybe I needed someone to blame and I took it out on you when I actually should’ve took it out on the oea.” she hummed for a moment, hands still holding her sisters hand, a soft squeeze of them as her eyes navigated to them. tears spilling from her eyes as if the clouds had just opened for a storm “and I’ve never wanted to make you feel like that, never wanted to judge you and I’m stupid for that, but I won’t ever leave you..i will always be here ev, I always always be here but you are trying to push me away but saying I mean nothing to you and by saying we are no longer sisters because you, everleigh will always be my older sister no matter if we are side by side or miles apart. i will always defend you as best as I can. Without you…we probably wouldn’t be having this stupid disagreement..we’d be dead and without you, I wouldn’t of felt happy in a long time.”